


In The Midst Of An Inferno

by theoryeleven



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daemons, F/F, His Dark Materials Inspired, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28041843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoryeleven/pseuds/theoryeleven
Summary: Will Graham is an FBI special investigator with an unusually large daemon named Erasmus and a near constant work related headache. When he is thrown into the world of murder and mystery with no safety net will he live to solve the murders? Or perhaps the intriguing mystery of Hannibal Lecter and his daemon Jurate?A fic based around the daemons in the series His Dark Materials. It will mostly stay with the plot of the show except for some time rearrangement for the first chapter or so. Then I’m just going to go actually apeshit with it.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Alana Bloom/Will Graham, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	1. Across The Acheron

**Author's Note:**

> So, you’ve decided to read this fic? First of all, thank you for wanting to read it. Second, buckle up. This shit is about to get fucking wild. Lastly, thank you to my beautiful, dear, helpful, girlfriend for beta-ing it! Since I know you’ll be here and see this; love you, babe.
> 
> Anyhoo, settle in, pull up a chair, and let me begin.

A storm was raging outside when Will startled awake, the taste of blood on his tongue and the images of brutal murders still fresh. He sat upright and sweat-soaked in his bed. The blankets were tangled around his legs like the reaching hands of the dead girls in his dreams. Glassy-eyed and grey, they tugged him down into churning tides of blood. He rubbed at his eyes then shucked the blankets off.

The dogs watched with sleepy awareness as he walked to the kitchen and guzzled down a glass of water. The slow sound of hoofbeats on linoleum approached as he put the glass down then gripped the sides of the sink. Will tilted his head to the side as it nuzzled his damp hair, warm breath gusting over his neck. He turned to face the creature. It was a giant stag that’s antlers nearly scraped the ceiling. He was black as pitch with slightly iridescent feathers lining his spine, interspersed through his pelt, and forming a thick mane around his neck. His antlers were glittering obsidian. He was Will Graham’s daemon, Erasmus.  
  
Will locked eyes with his daemon’s glittering black eyes and sighed through shaking gulps of air. He leaned on his neck lightly, his hands carding through his feathered mane like he did when he was a child. He could feel his warmth and weight reflected through their bond, it comforted him. Erasmus permitted his touch until his breath no longer shuddered through him. The stag then backed away and jerked his head to the bed, careful not to gouge Will with his antlers.

“It’s already four,” Will said, “No use trying to go back to bed.” His daemon snorted in annoyance.

“I’m already awake. There’s no reason to remake the bed only to be able to lay there for half an hour. It's a waste of time.” He said firmly. Erasmus stared at him with his dark eyes before snorting again and going back to lay with the dogs. He scrubbed a hand through his hair before getting a couple of pieces of bread from a loaf in the cabinet and popping them in the toaster. He filled the coffee maker with his off-brand grounds, refilled the water reservoir, and set the machine to strong brew.

He listened to the rain patter against the windows and buster snore in the room over until his toast popped up. He grabbed a plate and lightly buttered the pieces before grabbing a pan from the cupboard and some eggs from the fridge. He quickly scrambled them, nothing fancy just salt and pepper. He added the eggs next to his toast. Once the coffee maker filled enough he poured himself a cup.

After breakfast Will went about his daily chores and letting the dogs out, finishing by the time his alarm told him to start getting ready for work. He then showered, brushed his teeth, and clothed himself in something mildly appropriate for teaching a bunch of FBI trainees basic procedure. By the time he left the house with his stag, the sun was rising, unobscured by clouds.

Getting to work was always a hassle with Erasmus being so large, but Will couldn’t leave him. He had had to get creative when he had settled. Erasmus couldn’t run fast enough to keep up with the car, riding was ridiculously uncomfortable for both of them, he certainly couldn’t fit him in a car. Will had had to scrounge enough money together when he was younger to get a custom trailer that was big enough for the stag to stand upright. Which had been awkward for both of them since the company had to come and personally measure his daemon, which apparently, was uncommonly large. The transaction involved a lot of averted eye contact and awkward silence.

Will opened the door to the giant trailer and lowered the ramp so his daemon could get situated. Erasmus walked slowly to it from the porch, nudging Will gently with his nose as he passed, and went into the trailer. Will closed the door and latched it. He patted Erasmus’s flank as he went up to the truck that hauled the monstrous metal box. He could feel Erasmus’s calm presence in the back of his mind as he climbed into the driver's seat.

“Maybe today won’t be so bad.” Will said to his daemon through his open window. He then started the truck and drove away from his house and towards an even bigger storm.

\---

Will arrived thirty minutes before his seminar started, enough time to down a few more cups of coffee and mentally prepare himself for his lecture. He was running through his slideshow on a school laptop as the first students started to arrive. Will avoided eye contact with each student, at best giving a brief smile before diving back into how he would present Mrs. Marlow’s case.

He could hear both the conversations of the students and the chittering of their daemons. His oversized stag being the topic of many of said conversations. He ignored them for the most part but kept an eye on Erasmus, who had decided to bed next to the secondary podium. He silently laid in plain view as Will started the lecture and barely moved until the end.

“Everyone has thought about killing someone one way or another. Be it your own hands or the hand of God. Now think about killing Mrs. Marlow.” Will said, he paused to take a quick survey of the room and for theatricality. He avoided their enraptured eyes. No sleepers today, good.

“Why did she deserve this? Tell me your design. Tell me who you are.” The same ending he’s had to his lectures since he’d started there. The students started to pack after he said the customary conclusion. Daemons stirring to accompany their masters out.

Will himself begins to pack up before he notices a figure cutting through the mass of students leaving as well as a daemon that swooped into the hall. 

“The sad, dull truth of these crimes is they can usually be reduced to a male penetrative control issue. I am expecting a higher level of scrutiny.” He says in warning to whoever was left to listen as the last of the stragglers leave and a familiar face enters. A severe man with a scarred face and a truly ironic daemon stood in his empty lecture hall with a stance that said he wanted something. A stance that said he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Both the man and his daemon had their sights on him, the man from the entrance to his hall, the daemon from a previously occupied front-row desk.

“Mr. Graham.” He said and glanced vaguely at his stag. The man strode up to his podium, close enough for Will to be extremely uncomfortable. Will put on the glasses he kept in his pocket quickly, positioned perfectly so that he couldn’t make eye contact. He didn’t have enough caffeine in his system for this.

“I’m Special Agent Jack Crawford. I lead the Behavioral Science Unit.” Crawford said.

“We’ve met.” Will said, an anxious sweat forming in his clenched fists that rested on the podium. A singular finger slipped from his right to tap rhythmically on the wood. Erasmus rose to his feet as Will’s anxiety continued to rise. Jack eyed him warily, as did his own daemon, a bald eagle, slightly larger than a true eagle and much more imposing.

“Yes, we had a disagreement about the museum when we opened it.” Crawford said as he leaned even further into Will’s space. Will instinctively moved back to maintain the minimal contact he preferred. He looked down at Crawford’s tie, anywhere but his eyes.

“I disagreed with what you named it.”

“The Evil Minds Research Museum?”

“It’s a little hammy, Jack.” Jack smiled slightly at his honesty. His daemon preened loose feathers from its chest. They fell over the desk and to the floor, he wondered for a second what happened to Erasmus’s feathers.

“You’ve hitched your horse to a teaching post. I understand it’s not easy for you to be sociable.” Jack said.

“I’m just talking at them. I’m not listening to them. It’s not social.”

Will saw a hand approach his face only the second it was an inch from his face, he was too focused on not looking at Jack. He flinched slightly as Jack pushed up his glasses. Will fleetingly glanced at his eyes, just enough to make him impossibly more uncomfortable. Erasmus appeared behind him. He exhaled sharply over Will’s head, Jack barely acknowledged him.

“Will?” Erasmus’s rarely used voice scraped through their bond, weighed heavily with concern. Will decide to ignore him.

“Where do you fall on the spectrum?” Jack asked.

“My horse is hitched to a post closer to Aspergers and Autistics than narcissists and sociopaths.”

“But you can empathize with narcissists and sociopaths.”

“I can empathize with anybody. Less to do with personality disorders than an active imagination.” Will said. Jack smiled and leaned closer once more, his eagle cried softly. 

“Can I borrow your imagination?” Jack said as if he hadn’t just damned Will.

\-----

Will quietly followed Jack Crawford’s airport rental to the home of the eighth victim in his beat-up old truck. His hands were clenched tightly around the steering wheel as he considered the other girl’s disappearances, each girl reminded him of the dead-eyed girls from his nightmare that morning. He grimaced and drove on. The girl’s deaths weighed on him almost as much as the handgun Jack had given him in his office. A just in case that reminded Will uncomfortably of his days in homicide.

Jack had presented the near-identical girls as dead and he didn’t expect much better for the newest victim, Elise Nichols. She had been missing for at least three days and the killer didn’t keep his prey for long. He had a feeling that this visit would be more mournful than hopeful.

When Jack and Will pulled into the Nichols’ driveway Will quickly moved to let Erasmus out of his trailer. He had been more agitated than usual in Crawford’s intimidating presence. He followed Will as closely as possible, flared his nostrils, and kept his dark eyes on Jack as they approached the door. A single ring of the doorbell rang out before the residents nearly tore the door off its hinges in their rush to open it. Jack’s daemon cried softly on Jack’s shoulder, plumage ruffled.

A sandy-haired man stood there with hopeful eyes that abruptly dimmed. He must have expected his daughter, magically reappeared, unharmed, not Jack Crawford and certainly not Will Graham. A woman looked over his shoulder timidly, blonde, unremarkable, she’d been crying recently.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nichols?” Jack said. Will decided to take the backseat and observe from behind. A glance to the windows and door showed no obvious signs of forced entry. “I’m Jack Crawford, head of the FBI Behavioral Science Department and this is Special Agent Will Graham. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the disappearance of your daughter.”

“Special Agent?” Erasmus asked through their bond.

“Quite the promotion.” Will whispered sarcastically back to him.

Mr. Nichols gestured for them to come into the house. Jack and Will brushed past him with ease but he had to move swiftly out of the way as Erasmus entered. Touching another person’s daemon was largely taboo unless you were deeply involved with the owner or if it was a dire circumstance. Will himself hated to be touched, if someone touched Erasmus without his permission it would be excruciatingly invasive.

Mrs. Nichols had taken a seat at a table, her face resigned and hopeless, her hands were wrapped around a steaming mug.

“We were just having some tea if you’d like some, it’s Earl Grey, I think.” Mr. Nichols said. A small furred tail flashed from his jacket, like that of a squirrel. A shy daemon, like most. Daemons like Jack’s were outliers and Daemons like Will’s didn’t have the luxury.

“No, thank you.” Jack said.

“Oh, okay.” Mr. Nichols said. He took a seat next to his wife and across from where Will and Jack stood. Jack took the seat closest to him. Will remained standing, the silent observer. Jack took out the pictures of the victims that he had stuffed in his pocket while they were still at headquarters. He spread them out for the Nichols to see, their daughter’s picture was the last in the line.

“We have reason to believe that your daughter was the latest in a series of kidnappings. Any details you could give us as to her last known whereabouts would help us.” Jack said. He had conveniently omitted the fact that she was most likely dead.

“I-I don’t know, she was supposed to come home to feed the cat while we were out.” Mr. Nichols said, “She could have gone off by herself. She was a very interior young woman. She didn’t like living in a dorm. I could see how the pressure of school might have gotten to her. She likes trains. Maybe she just got on a train and…”

Will stared at the wooden table the Nichols and Jack sat at. The gyres in his brain started to turn, the dorm? No, too conspicuous. A train? Too open, this killer liked anonymity.

“She looks like the other girls.” Mrs. Nichols said, she looked defeated, resigned to her sadness.

“She fits the profile.” Jack said. Private place, quiet, alone…

“Could Elise still be alive?” Mr. Nichols said.

“We simply have no way of knowing.”Jack said. A place like this, where the only people who could’ve helped weren’t there.

“How’s the cat?” Will asked. The pieces of the puzzle snapped together.

\-----

Will stood in the Nichols bathroom with a wired microphone strapped to his jacket. A stress headache had formed while waiting for the FBI to show up, making it hard to focus over the pounding in his head and the noise around him. Having to have Erasmus stay downstairs wasn’t helping, either. It just birthed a new dull ache but this time in his chest, like tension on his ribcage. Apparently, it was a rule that no daemons were allowed in an active crime scene so they didn’t contaminate the evidence. That and Erasmus wasn’t very good with steep stairs.

An Asian woman, a dickish looking man, and a Mr. Rogers look-alike had occupied Elise’s room. They were picking and prodding, Will assumed until he heard Jack usher them out. Left alone on the floor he was a little overwhelmed, he had seen death but he had never had to get close enough to smell a corpse. She had smelled too, not something overly obvious at first but death had its own defining scent. Cloying, coppery, and sticky. At least she hadn’t defecated in death considering the way she had died, it would have made the experience that much worse for him.

Will took a bottle of aspirin out of his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and popped two in his mouth. He swallowed them with a handful of tap water. It would take a while for them to kick in and turn down the sound of his rushing blood and creaking bones. He takes another handful of water and splashes his face. He dried it with his shirt before exiting the bathroom.

He enters Elise’s room with a grimace, god, she smelled. He walked to the window. This would’ve been where the killer got into the house, where Elise’s dead body was taken. Will opened the window and climbed out. It was a cool night. He regretted wiping his face on his shirt now, it was fucking cold.

Will watched with cool detachment as the Nichols' were seen by paramedics and police officers wandered about on the lawn. He reveled in the solid feel of the rough shingles beneath him, he reveled in the clean air, he reveled in the feeling of reality before he entered his fevered imagination. Will closed his eyes and re-entered Elise’s room.

Will’s heartbeat became a pendulum of light behind his eyes, rewinding the scene until he was no longer Will Graham but the killer of Elise Nichols. He opened his eyes. Elise Nichols slept soundly in her bed. He silently opened her window and crept to her bedside. There is no one home to hear her or help her. He watches her sleep for a moment, tears welling in his eyes. He springs on her, knee cracking her ribs underneath him as he grips her throat, he squeezed. Elise wakes up with a strangled and pained scream. Terror rips through her as she struggles, capillaries in her eyes burst, in her skin. Tears flow from her bloodshot eyes. She tries to scream but he’s crushed her windpipe, she doesn’t make a sound as her bedboard snaps and she dies.

“You’re Will Graham.” A woman said. Will snapped out of his reconstruction forcefully, his breath coming hard.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Will forced out, he looked for Erasmus for a moment for stability before he remembered the dull ache in his chest.

“You wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity.” She said, her tone indicated excitement, playfulness.

“Found velvet in two of the wounds.”

“My daemon doesn’t have antler velvet.” Will said.

“I know. You’re FBI.” she said.

“I’m a special investigator.”

“Never been an F.B.I. Agent?”

“Strict screening procedures.” His voice is tight with annoyance

“Detects instability. You unstable?” She said as Jack stormed in with his jaw set.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Jack said.

“Found antler velvet in two of the wounds. Like she was gored. Was looking for velvet in the other wounds but I was interrupted.” She said with a quick glance at Will. 

“Deer and elk pin their prey, put all their weight on the antlers, and try to suffocate them. That’s how they would kill a fox or a coyote.” A new voice chimed in behind him. Will flinched at the close proximity. He inched away from it all.

\----

Will’s drive from Minnesota was as uncomfortable as it was long for both him and Erasmus. He had gotten up before dawn in his little motel room so that he’d reach home at a good time to crash into his bed. Which made him both annoyed and tired. He wished he could just take a plane as he swallowed aspirin and coffee. The long car drive gave him far too much time in his own head. Too much time to think, about Elise, how she was put back. How the killer tried to undo what he had done. How she was an apology.

\----

Will entered Wolftrap and breathed a sigh of relief. He had to speed a little but he cut the time down by half an hour. He sped home with the vigor of someone who wanted to be in bed before ten because he did. He was in the home stretch when he saw a brown shape moving ahead on the side of the road, he slowed the truck down. It was a dog with a lead attached to his collar and dragged along the pavement. It looked a little too thin and a little too raggedy to be a lost dog, not to mention it was in the middle of nowhere. It stopped and he rolled past.

He slowed the car to a stop a ways ahead of the dog and got out. Erasmus sleepily questioned through their bond.

“Hey, buddy.” Will said, exhausted, he had hoped the dog would come to him but it went the opposite direction. It would get away if he went after it on foot so he returned to the truck, restarted the old girl, and did a u-turn to follow the dog. Will drives ahead and grabs the partially eaten bag of beef jerky he had thrown in the back when he needed a snack earlier.

He stopped the car again once he got far enough ahead and got out. Will went around to the trailer to sit on the lip of it with a few pieces of jerky in his hand. The dog eyed him curiously before approaching. The dog gently ate the jerky out of Will’s hand and left warm trails of saliva on his palm. Will smiled tiredly then lured the dog into the truck with the rest of the bag. Now that he was closer he could tell that the new dog was a male.

The dog was well behaved. He sat patiently as Will drove the rest of the way home. God, it was good to be home. Will let Erasmus out of the trailer before he let the new dog out of the truck. Erasmus took a look at the dog before he hummed and went to the porch. The process of Will taking in a new stray always went the same. Erasmus would watch quietly as he once again went through the motions despite his fatigue and he welcomed the new family member as always.

Will let the stray out of the truck and gently lead him to the porch.

“Erasmus, can you watch him while I get some things?” Will asked, as he always did.

“Yes.” Erasmus said, as he always did. Will changed into his pajamas then retrieved clippers, a towel, dog shampoo, a tub, a space heater, and the old kennel. He came back and found the new dog curled up next to Erasmus as Erasmus’s large black eyes followed the rise and fall of his chest intently. Will felt a strong surge of love for both the new dog and his daemon as the warmth Erasmus felt filtered through him.

He set up the tub with warm water from the house, the space heater next to it on a low setting, and the kennel with a clean blanket, all whilst both Erasmus and the dogs watched. He turned on the clippers as the new dog started to sit up. He was well-mannered as he shaved the matted fur off, as he scrubbed him clean, as he toweled him dry, and set him in the kennel. He let the whole family out of the house to both say hello and go to the bathroom. He’d left food and water out and the dog door open but that couldn’t beat him personally letting them out and feeding them.

“Winston. This is everybody. Everybody. This is Winston.” Will said to the family of excited dogs. Teddy, a little curly-haired mutt he’d found years ago as a puppy, started to growl at Winston. Will glared at him sharply.

“Tsst,” sharply, “Teddy.” he said in a tired yet authoritative tone. Well, as authoritative as he could muster at eleven o’clock at night with a name like Teddy. 

The curly-haired dog stopped growling and laid down obediently.

“Good boy.” he said. “Erasmus, can you watch them? I think I’m going to take a shower and then we can go to bed.”

Erasmus slowly blinked his assent. Will went back into the house exhausted. He turned the shower on and let it warm up while he got a towel from the laundry cabinet. Steam filled the small bathroom as he entered. He shed his clothes then stepped under the hot spray. His muscles relaxed as he drifted from his shower into a dense, foggy forest, Erasmus stood feet away.

Will snapped back to his shower with a gasp. A fumbling hand shut the water off as he stepped out of the shower, the panic of the forest slowly wearing off. He dried off and redressed. He decided it was just a trick of his too-tired brain and promptly stopped thinking about it.

When he reached the porch all of the dogs were huddled around the front end of Winston’s kennel while Erasmus watched from where he was wrapped around the back. 

“Thank you, Erasmus.” Will said through a yawn. Erasmus replied with a small huff.

Will scattered the curious pack and brought Winston, crate and all, inside the house. The rest of the dogs followed suit as Erasmus slowly brought himself to his hooves then through the open door. He set Winston at the far end of the room where all of the other dogs' beds lied scattered. Erasmus took his customary spot in the middle of the pile as the dogs gathered around both him and Winston. Will went to the bathroom before turning off the light. It was almost a good end to the day. The room fell into companionable silence as the dogs, Erasmus, and Will all faded into unconsciousness.

\----

Will woke to the sound of breathing. He opened his eyes, expecting a dog or Erasmus. He held his breath as he listened for them. He couldn’t pinpoint the direction it was coming from so he turned around. He came face to face with Elise Nichols’ dead glassy eyes and pale greyish skin. She was wearing the same nightgown from when he found her body in her room.

Will reached out to touch her cold skin, to confirm that she was real, solid. Shadows of tree branches that Will assumed were stationary and flat started to twist. They became antlers with sharpened points that tore through Elise, impaling her and dragging her into the shadows of the room. Her unmoving eyes stayed locked to his as she disappeared into the dark.

Will jolted awake in his bed, soaked in sweat. He heard Erasmus sharply inhale as he too awoke as he felt his panic through their bond. Will’s shirt and boxers clung uncomfortably as he sat up with a groan. He threw back the sheets then went to get new, dry clothes and a towel.

Will peeled off the wet clothes, threw them in the washer along with other dirty clothes, and started a cleaning cycle. He stumbled back into the bedroom after changing into the dry clothes. He set the towel over the damp spot then flopped his exhausted body over it. He could feel Erasmus’s gaze on him as he pulled the sheets back up.

“A nightmare?” Erasmus asked. Will barely managed an affirming grunt before passing back out.

\----

Will and Erasmus spent the day running around FBI headquarters; from an encounter in the bathroom with Jack to his lectures and the forensics lab. Will knew more about the killer, that he cared about his victims, he consumed his victims, and that he was most likely a plumber, steamfitter, or a tool worker. He also knew that his nightmares were no longer limited to when he slept. All in all, he needed more aspirin and more coffee, preferably in that order.

When Jack called him into his office Will couldn’t help but groan a little on the inside, he had found neither coffee nor aspirin. Will slipped his glasses on as he got closer. He could not take both phantom dead girls and Jack Crawford yelling without them. The thought of seeing Elise again if he accidentally zoned out was already making his skin crawl. When Will walked in and saw a person in a suit that was designer, warning bells automatically started to ring in his sleep-deprived brain. The only people who wore designer things and entered headquarters were either bureaucrats or psychoanalysts. Judging by the way he was allowed in the room he would have to bet this man was the latter. Annoyance and distrust flared in his chest.

In his hurry to determine the job of the suited man he had forgotten to hold the door for Erasmus. He was stuck on the other side with no opposable thumbs to remedy that, he sent Will a wave of annoyance. Will hurried to open the door for him. Erasmus, somehow, gracefully cleared the doorway and entered the room. Will took another survey of the room while Erasmus did so, Jack’s daemon perched on a stand behind him, Will should really make an effort to learn her name, and another by the man in designer. The man had a snow leopard, relaxed at the foot of his chair, she watched him even as her owner's back remained turned.

Jack gestured for Will to take a seat next to the man and his ever-alert daemon. Will, begrudgingly, did but then proceeded to lock his gaze to whatever wasn’t either Jack’s or the psychoanalyst’s eyes. Erasmus moved from behind the man and Will into the area next to Jack’s desk. Curiosity shone in his dark eyes and through their bond.

“This one looks funny.” Erasmus said. He was looking at the man in designer clothes. Will shot him a sidelong glance.

“He does look a little funny, too many layers.” Will said through their bond. 

“Like an onion.” Erasmus said. It made Will slightly less tense. It was hard to be threatened by a person that half of your soul likened to an onion in a deadpan voice. Will came out of his own head to listen to whatever the two other men were saying.

“Tell me then, how many confessions?” The suited man asked.

“Twelve dozen last time I checked. None of them knew details. Until this morning. Then everyone knew details. Some genius in Duluth PD took a picture of Elise Nichols’ body with their phone and shared it with a few close friends. Freddy Lounds ran it on Tattlecrime.com.” Jack said.

“Tasteless.” Will mumbled.

“Do you have trouble with taste?” The man asked. Will was surprised that he had heard him.

“My thoughts are often not tasty.”

“Nor mine. No effective barriers.”

“I make forts”

“Associations come quickly.”

“So do forts.” Will said. He glanced down to see the leopard daemon’s tail twitch minutely as she stared at him. He glanced over the man’s face, he stopped on his eyebrow ridge rather than his eyes.

“Not fond of eye contact, are you?”

“Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don’t see enough. And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking those whites are really white or they must have hepatitis, or is that a burst vein? So I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.”

“I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.” The man said. Indignity flared in him. Did he just _profile_ him? It was way too close to home.

“Whose profile are you working on?” Will said to the man. “Whose profile is he working on?” He said to Jack, incredulous in both of his addresses.

“I’m sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off.” The man said. Who _the fuck_ told the suit his name. He shot a glare at Jack, the most likely betrayer.

“Please don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a lecture on psychoanalyzing.” Will said to Jack, anger leached into his voice. Erasmus was already pawing the ground, restless, as Will got up to leave. He was going to have words with both Jack and the onion man. 

He walked through the building angry, he went to his lecture angry, he went home angry. Psychoanalyzing? Him? By the time he got home a tension headache was already formed by how hard his jaw was clenched. Luckily, being buried in dogs and making fishing flies cooled him off. A good thing too, if he kept bleeding anger over to his daemon, whose feather mane ruffled when he was angry, Erasmus would’ve started shedding feathers.

\---

Will woke up two hours too early to the same nightmare as the night before, soaked in sweat and terrified out of his mind. That and the fact that he’d forgotten to pick up more aspirin the day before cemented his annoyed and exhausted attitude for the day. On top of that, He got a call from Jack Crawford at two in the afternoon to come to Minnesota, a new body was found.

Will Graham is nothing if not a trooper. Which is why he showed up to a murder scene after he pulled an all-night drive to Minnesota from Virginia with an extra-large double shot expresso and a brand new, family size, bottle of aspirin. He could physically feel his under-eye bags as they got worse and at this point, they were under-eye suitcases.

As Erasmus and Will made their way to the marked crime scene Will slipped on some sunglasses he got on his trip for coffee and aspirin. Now it wouldn’t be so _fucking_ bright and he didn’t have to make eye contact. Erasmus had told him to get the thicker rimmed ones because they looked cooler rather than the aviators which would’ve let him see better. Will took a moment to realize how stupid he looked as he showed up late with coffee in sunglasses because Erasmus had somehow talked him into it. At least he had the good thought to take his aspirin preemptively so he’d be ahead of the headache game.

Will took a large gulp of his coffee, set the cup on a squad car for later, and asked his daemon to make sure nothing happened to it. He then slid under the police tape and approached the huddle of the forensics crew. Maybe he’d corner Jack later about the name of his daemon since Jack had only recently given him the names of the forensics team and the many-layered onion man as Erasmus had taken to calling him. Such thoughts evaporated as Jack Crawford spied him. Jack gave him a look that translated as pity and annoyance. He knew immediately what the annoyance part was but as Will got closer he realized the pity in his stare. Between the other officers, he snatched glimpses of a girl… mounted on a severed stag head. 

His steps faltered for a moment as he took the sight in. The girl had the same wound pattern as Elise Nichols but this time the girl was still on the antlers and she was naked. A murder of crows flocked about her body, constantly having to be shooed away to keep the body near pristine. Jack caught his gaze and waved the forensic crew away from the girl’s body then approached Will.

“I feel like I’m dreaming.” Will said, “The head looks like Erasmus’.”

“Your daemon?” Jack said.

“Yeah.”

“The head was reported stolen yesterday about a mile from here.”

“Just the head?” Will asked as the crows started to regroup only to be chased away by the Asian woman and the douchey one, Beverly Katz and Brian Zeller, Jack had told him. Their daemons appeared to be helping as well, A large crow daemon and a chubby Raccoon daemon he was unsure whose was whose.

“Minneapolis homicide has already made a statement. They’re calling him the ‘Minnesota Shrike.’” Jack said, another reason he looked annoyed Will guessed.

“Like the bird?”

“Shrike’s a perching bird. Impales mice and lizards on thorny branches and barbed wire. Rips their organs right out of their bodies. Puts them in a little birdie pantry and eats them later.” The Mr. Rogers man, Jimmy Price said.

“Can’t tell if it’s sloppy or shrewd.” Jack said.

“He wanted her to be found this way. It’s the homicidal equivalent of fecal smearing. It’s petulant. I almost feel like he’s mocking her.” Will paused for a second to think, “Or he’s mocking us.” Will certainly felt mocked by the naked girl impaled on what looked like his daemon’s head.

“Where’d all his love go?” Jack said. This didn’t feel like Elise’s murder, though, it felt different.

“Whoever tucked Elise Nichols into bed didn’t paint this picture.” Will said. Zellar poked at the body for a second before peeking back up.

“He took her lungs. I think she was still alive when he cut them out.” Zellar said. Will turned from the gruesome sight while the forensics team kept working.

“Our cannibal loves women. He doesn’t want to destroy them. He wants to consume them. Keep some part of them inside. This girl’s killer thought she was a pig.” Will said with absolute surety.

“You think this is a copycat?” Jack said. Will took a moment to look over the field, stage of this killer's theatrics.

“I don’t know. Cannibal who killed Elise Nichols had a place to do it and no interest in field Kabuki. He has a house or two, or a cabin. Something with an antler room.” Will said. He reasoned that all the girls were nearly the same in all aspects including age. The killer, assuming he was older than thirty could have a child the same age as the victims. “He has a daughter. Same age as the other girls. Same hair color, same eye color, same height, same weight. She’s an only child. She’s leaving home. He can’t stand the thought of losing her. She’s his Golden Ticket.” Will said, he leaned mentally on his bond with Erasmus to help him keep looking at the young girl’s decomposing corpse.

“What about the copycat?” Jack said.

“An intelligent psychopath, particularly a sadist, is hard to catch. There’s no traceable motive. There’ll be no patterns. He may never kill like this again.” Will said as he moved to go back to where Erasmus stood waiting. Will slipped under the tape and turned back to Jack. “Have Doctor Lecter work up a psychological profile. You seem to be impressed with his opinion.” Will said, feeling a bit petty in his five-dollar sunglasses and, now cold, extra-large double shot coffee. He suddenly didn’t feel up to driving or socializing very much at all.

\----

Will booked a hotel in Minneapolis to stay in while the investigation continued so he wouldn’t have to keep making the seventeen-hour drives. The room was a double twin, one for him and one for Erasmus, spoiled daemon that he was. Will crashed almost as soon as he got in the hotel room, the only pause for him was to take off all his clothes until he was in his undershirt and briefs. Then he shimmied under the covers as Erasmus laid down on the opposite bed, Will hoped the night would be dreamless.

\----

Will stood under a star-dotted sky, a pale crescent moon his only light in the eerie silence he had found himself in. His house floated in the distance like a boat on a quiet ocean. In the silence, the crunch of dewed grass was infinitely loud. He turned around to see Erasmus standing there, regal and calm. His eyes reflected the stars as if they held the cosmos. His daemon continued his careful approach until they stood face to face. Will moved to thread his fingers through his mane but a loud knocking startled Erasmus. The stag daemon bolted, leaving Will’s chest to cave with the weight of half his soul bounding away.

\----

Erasmus awoke, as per usual, with Will but the pain of his dream lingered, and so did the sound effects. Wait, no, someone was knocking on the door. Will groaned and rose from his bed, he wrapped a robe around himself for a semblance of modesty while wiping the sleep from his eyes. He opened the door to find… Hannibal Lecter? The many-layered onion man? And his snow leopard daemon with food?

“Good morning, Will. May I come in?” Doctor Lecter said. Will stood dumbfounded for a second and stared at him. What kind of person bothers someone at the god awful hour of- he looked at the watch on his wrist- ten.

“Where’s Crawford?” Will asked.

“Deposed in court. The adventure will be yours and mine today.” he said and paused a moment “May I come in?”

“Uh, Yeah,” Will opens the door wide for then moves to go to the bathroom, “I’m going to put on some clothes if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course.” What the fuck. Why? 

“Will? Why is the Many-Layered Onion Man here?” Erasmus asked through their bond.

“Breakfast, I guess.” Will replied silently as he made himself halfway presentable and shrugged back into the clothes he had worn the day before. He exited the bathroom to see the sight of double portions of heavenly food in little containers arrayed on a small table. Lecter popped the lid of the thermos he had and the smell of coffee filled the air. Will moved to take the seat opposite Lecter.

“I’m very careful about what I put into my body. Which means I end up preparing most meals myself. A little protein scramble to start the day. Some eggs, some sausage.” Lecter scraped the portion of food from the container onto a plate then gestured for him to take it. Will did with much gusto. A piece of sausage here, an egg there, some vegetables, each bite was strides and leaps above anything he’d had in years.

“It’s delicious. Thank you.” Will said.

“My pleasure.” Lecter said, “I would apologize for my analytical ambush but I know I will soon be apologizing again and you’ll tire of that eventually so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.”

“Just keep it professional.” Will said automatically, friends weren’t really in his repertoire even if they made the best food he’d ever had.

“Or we could socialize like adults, god forbid we become friendly.” Lecter said.

“I don’t find you that interesting.” Will said, too tired to engage his unrude brain to mouth filter.

“You will.” he said. Ominous but okay. Too early to think about that. “You have a very beautiful daemon, may I ask his name?” subject change, smooth. Two can play that game.

“Only if you tell me yours?” Will said. Eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“A trade then?”

“A name for a name.”

“Mm, My daemon’s name is Jurate, and yours?”

“Erasmus.”

“Erasmus? Like the philosopher?”

“More like the patron saint of sailors.”

“Will? Why is the Many-Layered Onion Man saying my name like he knows it?” Erasmus said through their link.

“Stop calling him that Erasmus.” Will said, he realized a second too late that he said it out loud. Lecter’s brows knit together in confusion. Erasmus realized at the same time from where he still lied on the bed. Their bond went quiet.

“Will?” Lecter said, questioning.

“Uh, he thinks you wear a lot of layers so he calls you many-layered”

“Like an onion” Erasmus supplied helpfully and deadpanned through the bond.

“Ah, I suppose I do?” Lecter said. An awkward silence followed very quickly and for at least thirty seconds Will avoided looking at Lecter’s face. Lecter is just at good at changing the subject as he is at cooking. “Agent Crawford tells me you have a knack for the monsters.”

“That’s a superstition.” Wills said.

“I called your good friend Doctor Bloom about you. She wouldn’t gossip, not a word. She’s very protective of you. Smitten, I would say. She asked me to keep an eye on you.” Will ignored the comment, he decided to keep the conversation business-oriented, considering the dangerous waters the previous conversation landed them in.

“I don’t think the Shrike killed that girl in the field.”

“The devil is in the details. What didn’t your Copy Cat do to the girl in the field? What gave it away?”

“Everything. It’s like he had to show me a negative so I could see the positive. That crime scene was practically giftwrapped.”

“The mathematics of human behavior. All those ugly variables. Some bad math with this shrike fellow. Are you reconstructing his fantasies? What kind of problems does he have?”

“He has a few.”

“Ever have any problems, Will?” he said with a voice that was practically a wink.

“No.”

“Of course you don’t. You and I are just alike. Problem free. Nothing about us to feel horrible about.” he paused, “I think Uncle Jack sees you as a fragile little tea-cup, the finest china used for only special guests.”

“How do you see me?”

“The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.” Lecter smiled slightly then gestured with his fork.”Finish your breakfast.”

Will gladly does so, he spent the rest of the meal quietly eating and drinking until both of them were done eating.

“Are you finished?” Lecter said.

“Yes, thank you.” Will said as Lecter cleaned up. “Do you want any help?”

“If you’d like, you can help me carry these to my car.”

“Alright, will we be leaving afterward?”

“Yes.”

“Okay let me grab a few things.” Will said and moved to grab his jacket, his keys, both his cheap sunglasses and his regular glasses, his phone from its charger, and the belt with his gun and holster. “Got it, let me get the door.” He then opened and held the door for Lecter, Jurate, and Erasmus. He closed the door once everyone was out and locked it with the key he’d left in his pocket the day before.

\----

They took Will’s car since Erasmus certainly wouldn’t fit in Lecter’s rental car. He slipped on his glasses. It was almost laughable to see Doctor Hannibal Lecter in his designer suit and jacket in Will’s beat-up old pickup. He sat in the seat beside Will with Jurate in his lap to limit any possibility of Will accidentally touching her. The middle seat space was barely enough for Will, it was vaguely suffocating to be in the small truck with another person, especially one of Lecter’s size. Not to mention the snow leopard curled in his lap. Though, it must have been excruciating for Lecter to get Jurate’s snow-white fur all over his dark suit and jacket.

It took twenty minutes, twenty sweaty minutes, to reach the construction site they were looking for. Will pulled into the roughly graveled drive-in site. He could feel every bump to Erasmus’ antlers as a sharp poke to the scalp, it was uncomfortable at best. A motorhome being used as a temporary office laid ahead. Will aimed for the easiest place to get out of with the trailer and put the truck in park. He began to unbuckle his seatbelt but had to guide it around his holster where it had caught. He noticed Lecter smiling.

“What are you smiling about?” Will asked.

“Peeking behind the curtain. Curious how the FBI goes about its business when it isn’t kicking in doors.” Hannibal said.

“We’re lucky we’re not doing house to house interviews.” Did he just joke with him? Like a friend? “We found a little piece of metal in the clothes Elise Nichols had on. A shred from a pipe threader.”

“Jack Crawford wants me to make sure you’re of sound mind and body... to look for metal pipe threaders?” He just joked back, shit. Too friendly but he can’t help a little smile that fights its way to his lips.

“That’s between you and Jack.”

“Must be hundreds of construction sites all over Minnesota.”

“Certain kinda metal. Certain kinda pipe. Certain kinda pipe coating. So we’re looking at construction sites that use that kinda pipe.”

“And what are we looking for?”

“At this stage, anything really. But mostly anything peculiar.” Said Will as he finally got out of the car and let Erasmus out of his trailer. He watched as Lecter got out as well, vainly brushing at the hair now on his pants. Jurate sat a few feet from him with her tail flicking.

“There are stairs Erasmus, you’re going to have to wait outside. I’ll be back. Don’t wander far.” Will said as he stroked his soft muzzle. His daemon blinked long and slow in acknowledgment. He turned to see Lecter watching him, Jurate curled around Lecter’s legs. “Ready?” He asked Hannibal.

\----

After an hour of digging through file after file, listening to the receptionist woman talk nonstop on the phone, a little hummingbird daemon buzzed around them while Jarute lazily batted at it. Will was hot, annoyed, and ready to give up. Then, like, the clouds parting from the sun. A suspicious person. A letter of resignation.

“Garret Jacob Hobbs.” Will said.

“One of our pipe threaders. Those are all the resignation letters. Plumbers union requires them whenever members finish a job. “ the receptionist said. “I’ll call you back.” she said to the person on the phone. Then she hung up, a small miracle. She scooted around her desk to look at the file.

“Did Mr. Hobbs have a daughter?” said Will.

“Might have.” Said the receptionist.

“Eighteen or nineteen, windchaffed? Plain but pretty? She would have auburn hair. About this tall.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t keep company with these people.”

“What is it about Garret Jacob Hobbs you find so peculiar?” Lecter said.

“Left a phone number. No address.” Will said.

“Therefore he has something to hide?” Hannibal said but Will just shrugged. At that point, he was honestly just grasping at straws but it felt right.

“Everyone else left an address.” Will said to Lecter. “You have an address for Mr. Hobbs?” he asked the receptionist. On the off chance he was wrong he needed to have all the files to relook over them. “I’m going to need to confiscate all these files, ma’am.” Will said.

“Okay?” she said. He looked at her until she sighed. “You want me to help, don’t you? Fine. I wasn’t doing anything anyway, I guess.” She got up from her seat, her hummingbird flitting around her before landing on her shoulder. Each of them picked up a box and started to shuffle them out of the building to beside his truck. Box after box until Lecter had the second to last. His hands slipped from the box and papers tumbled from the box. Both Will and the secretary moved to pick them up.

“I got it.” Will said. He crouched to pick up the papers and reassemble what might have been the order they were in. By the time he had picked up all the papers and fixed them, Lecter came out with the final box. Jurate followed close behind him. They packed them under the tarp on his truck bed. It should keep them dry until he could get them back to headquarters. The Hobbs address wasn’t too far from where they currently were and they had time to confirm whether or not Hobbs had a child matching the victims. Lecter was already situated in the passenger seat. Will called for Erasmus and thought things weren’t going too bad today as he latched the trailer shut behind his daemon. He climbed into the driver's seat and started towards the address the receptionist had given him.

The drive was uneventful and calm except for a suburban mother that had shouted at them to move just after a light had turned from red to green. Otherwise, the silence in the truck was nearly blissful. Will felt hopeful for once.

Will rolled his old truck to a stop in the Hobbs’ driveway and paused to pop an aspirin in his mouth. He swallowed the pill then got out of the car. This visit probably wouldn’t take too long.

“Erasmus?” Will said through their bond, “I’m going to leave you in the trailer, this will be a quick stop.” He could hear his daemon snort from where he stood by the car. Will started towards the door before he heard Hannibal and Jarute get out. He didn’t want to talk to those people, especially not Mr. Hobbs, the could-be killer. He tried to look more like a dignified and confident officer of the law with a sure step and good posture.

Will was halfway to the door before it opened and his mild confusion was instantly replaced with both fear and shock. A woman had been shoved out of the house, gouts of blood poured from her neck. The door slammed back shut as she fell down the porch steps. Will ran to her before he even registered the danger he might be in. lacerations covered her torso and arms but the wound on her neck was the largest. He tried to staunch the flow of her blood as she gasped and wheezed on the ground. A small moused daemon slipped from her pocket and onto her fluttering chest. It tried to comfort her even as it writhed in pain.

She looked at him with panicked eyes and reached for his hand. Her hand grasped his arm for barely a second before going limp. Her body spasmed once then went still. Will pried her limp fingers from his arm and tried not to look at her face, filled with pain and fear even in death. Will, covered in the woman’s blood, watched as her daemon dissolved into light.

Will stood shakily and, through panicked breaths, slammed his shoulder into the door. He knew Hobbs had a daughter if he didn’t move fast enough she would share her mother’s fate. He heard a sickening crack. He hoped it was the door as he kicked the door until it splintered off the hinges. He stumbled inside, fueled by his own momentum and adrenaline. Will took his gun from its holster, going from room to room with it raised, wild-eyed, as he followed the trail of blood. The dull ache of being so far from his daemon started to form in his chest.

“Garret Jacob Hobbs? F.B.I.” Will said through shaking breaths, equal parts fear and panic went through him. He stood in the kitchen. Across from him stood Garret Jacob Hobbs with his daughter held against him and a knife at her throat. Two bird daemons were on the counter, one pinned under the other. He saw Will. His hand brought the knife through a vicious arc, blood sprayed as the girl fell to the floor. The world slowed down as arterial spray ran red through the air and between one breath and the next Will fired his gun.

His heart hammered in his chest as time regained its usual pace and four bullets found their way into Hobbs’ chest. The man didn’t fall. Will fired five more before he did. He fell to the floor next to his daughter and faced him. Will snapped back into time’s steady flow as he kneeled next to the girl. He tried to stop the blood flowing from her neck with trembling hands but her blood simply slipped through his fingers, joining the pool below the gasping girl.

He looked at Hobbs with panicked movements, a face of genuine regret stared back. He looked back at Abigail and tried to put more pressure on the wound but his body was barely responding to his commands. He looked again at Hobbs.

“See? See?” Hobbs hissed through his jagged dying breaths. His body went limp as Will glanced back at Abigail. Her daemon, no longer pinned under Hobbs’, fluttered down to its owner, its wings twitched in pain.

His ears were ringing, his body was barely moving, the panic was seizing his brain. He couldn’t hear, he could barely see. Another body gently nudged him out of the way. Will vaguely recalled Hannibal following far behind him through the house as new hands pressed firmly down on the girl’s neck. He watched as her eyes flickered from her father’s dead body to his glassy and terrified eyes. He did not look away from her for fear that by the time he looked back she would have died.

\----

Will stood in the Hobbs’ kitchen covered in fresh blood. Drops splattered across his clothes, his skin, his glasses until he was soaked. The girl, Abigail Hobbs laid at his feet and struggled to breathe with her slashed windpipe. Her daemon convulsed next to her. He watched indifferently. He glanced up. Across from him stood Garret Jacob Hobbs with his daemon perched on his shoulder. Will wondered where Erasmus was before he watched as Hobbs’ eyes go milky and bloodstains blossom across his chest. There were nine, rapidly growing.

Abigail gave one last shudder before she went still. Her daemon dissolved into golden sparks that were so bright that they briefly blinded Will. He blinked them away but suddenly Garret was face to face with him, his nose brushed Will’s.

“See?” Garret hissed, “ _See?_ ”

Will startled back from the grey-skinned man only to watch as the nine bloodstains in the man’s shirt moved. Thorns burst through his shirt. No, not thorns, antlers. They grew from his chest and curled towards Will.

\----

Will jerked awake in his home. Sweat poured from his skin and his breathing was erratic. It had been a month since he had shot Garret Jacob Hobbs in his kitchen, two weeks since the incident with the mushroom gardener, and a week and a half since Freddie Lounds had made it her job to be up his ass. Jack had more or less helped him in that last matter and Erasmus helped when he felt unstable.

He shucked the blanket he’d been using from his sweat-soaked body, wincing slightly at the rush of cold air. He groaned as he sat up and rubbed his crusty eyes. Erasmus watched him from the side of his bed, already awake. The stag nuzzled his still-shaking hands. He smiled tiredly then maneuvered around him to start his day. Starting with a shower, he thought, as a draft came from under the door and his teeth snapped into a chatter. A hot one.

\---

Alana had visited the day before, her daemon perched regally on her shoulder. She had shown up looking like a goddess incarnate when he had stepped onto the porch. He had been surrounded by dogs, looked like death warmed up, and was wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. Embarrassment wormed its way into his belly at the thought of the scene but quickly dissipated as he remembered their conversation.

Abigail had finally woken up. He wanted to visit her. He wanted to be there with her while she recovered. He wanted to help her. Alana, however, had not thought it wise and had discouraged the intense paternal instinct. She had said something along the lines of ‘not collecting another stray’. She had also said that the first people she talked to about her near-death experience can’t have been there. He acknowledged the psychiatric value of her words as well as the legal but he also couldn’t help but worry.

He spent the day worrying and feeling guilty, all through his morning, his lecture, and through his talks with Jack. It went like that for a week until Alana finally said it was okay to visit the girl he’d come, strangely, to regard as his daughter. Despite the fact that he’d orphaned her, or maybe because of it, he felt like she was his responsibility now. He’d only actually known her a few hours, including the time he’d spent at her bedside while she had been asleep. Yet, there he was beside Doctor Lecter at the hospital where she was recuperating with shaking hands barely hidden in his pockets.

He’d proposed they go together since they had both been there when she was nearly killed. He barely knew the man past their few interactions on cases and by Abigail’s side in the hospital, he didn’t really need a therapist since Erasmus could always help him better than any human on the affairs of his mind. That and it was hard to interact with a man the other half of his soul had dubbed ‘the onion-man’.

An Orderly, his daemon, Erasmus and Will all cramped into an elevator carefully to avoid either being impaled on Erasmus’ antlers or coming in contact with the other manor his daemon. They had gotten to the elevator and realized they were not all going to fit. He and the first orderly took the elevator since Erasmus couldn’t use stairs with any kind of surety and hospital rules dictated that all visitors must have supervision. Doctor Lecter and the second orderly took the stairs, Lecter with grace, the second orderly with a strained smile.

The time in the elevator was thankfully short and he fled quickly into the relatively large hallway as soon as the doors opened. He found a completely unruffled Lecter and Jurate next to the huffing second orderly. He joined them as the first orderly and his daemon shuffled out of the elevator, followed by Erasmus carefully maneuvering his antlers through the gate and doorway of the elevator. By the time Erasmus and the orderly had exited Will could feel the anxious energy practically vibrating under his skin. He freed a shaking hand from his pocket to tap along his thigh in a regular beat. He could feel Lecter’s eyes on his dancing finger but couldn’t bring himself to care enough to stop.

When the small group finally approached Abigail Hobbs’ room Will was anxious as hell. The tapping of his fingers was now more complex and he could feel Erasmus’ concern through their bond. Will approached the room first followed by Erasmus to greeted by the biggest pain in his ass ever to exist complete with curly red hair and enough bullshit to fill the room. He got the orderlies to escort her out and snatched the card she’d been trying to give Abigail from her fingers. She left with harsh words. Her fox daemon followed with a swish of its tail and a faint hiss towards Will.

When Will finally shoved aside his annoyance at Freddie Lound’s unwelcome visit and focused on Abigail he realized with a sense of faint horror that he had no idea what to say. Hello, my name is Will Graham. I shot your dad. Remember me? I held you as you bled out on the floor? Of course fucking not. He struggled for a second before Erasmus gave him a small nudge. He hadn’t even realized he had stepped fully into the room.

“Introduce yourself.” Erasmus says calmly through their bond. Will snapped from his guilt-ridden stupor.

“I’m special agent Will Graham and this is Doctor Lecter. Do you… remember us?” he said, Erasmus sent waves of approval to him. He patted himself mentally on the back for not choking on the words. Nice, succinct, the ball was in her court without forcing her to do anything.

“I remember you,” she said before holding her hand out for a bright blue-green bird to glide into. “You killed my dad.” she said almost absentmindedly while stroking its vibrant plumage. Oh shit, oh fuck, change the subject. He remembered her gurgling gasps and Garrett Jacob Hobbs’ lifeless eyes for just a second before shaking the images away. Thankfully he didn’t have to try and change the subject.

“You’ve been in a bed for three weeks, Abigail. Why don’t we have a walk?” Hannibal said and off they went like an almost family, Will on one side and Lecter on the other. Two faux fathers in lieu of the one Will shot. They walked and talked about their shared traumatic experience. They walked until Abigail tired of it. Each word she said brought a pang of sadness and guilt to him. He nearly lost hold of himself when she said she just wanted to go home. His heart nearly wrenched itself out of his chest. He was thankful for Lecter when he asked if she wanted to head back. He filled the silence when Will couldn’t and they fell into a relative rhythm until they said their goodbyes. Doctor Lecter and Will lapsed into a comfortable silence on their way to the elevator.

“Will?” Hannibal said.

“Yes, Doctor Lecter?” Will said as he pushed the elevator call button.

“Hannibal, please.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Jack asked me to do a psychologic evaluation for you.”

“Of course he would. Why didn’t he tell me? Or more importantly why are you?” Will asked, now annoyed but also curious.

“I declined, at first. It seemed to be counterintuitive to me befriending you.”

“You said no to Jack Crawford because it would have stopped us from being friends?” Will scoffed.

“Simply put? Yes. I’m afraid he’s grown more insistent following the previous case. I’d like to get to know you better on your terms but it would be hard to do so if Jack got a new Psychoanalyst.” Lecter said. Will thought for a second as the small group boarded the elevator. It would be more headache-inducing to have to deal with a different person digging in his headspace. Whether he liked it or not, Jack wanted him evaluated and Will almost liked Lecter.

“I’ll... think about it.” Will said.

“Not too long, I hope.” Lecter said with a subtle dip in his tone. The two men lapsed back into silence.

\----

Will, Erasmus, Lecter, and Jurate all went in the same direction after exiting the hospital, towards where Lecter had parked. His car was a beautiful dark blue Bentley marred only by the obnoxious woman that leaned against it and the daemon that accompanied her. Freddie Lounds. Had she just been waiting out there for them? It was only forty degrees and it had been at least two hours since she’d been escorted off the premises of the hospital.

Whatever amount of calm he’d found while walking to his car quietly with Lecter was immediately gone, replaced with a sudden headache and extreme annoyance. Freddie pushed off the Bentley to walk up to them with a, no doubt, fake smile.

“Special Agent Graham, I never formally introduced myself.” She said and offered her hand. “I’m Freddie Lounds, this is Gabriel.” she gestured to her daemon, not that Will particularly cared about what its name was. He heard Erasmus snort behind him and the clip of his hooves as he pawed the ground.

“Trying to salvage this joke from the mouth of madness?” Will asked.

“Please. Let me apologize for my behavior in there. It was sloppy and misguided. And hurtful.” Will nearly snorted at that himself. Lecter neatly stepped forward, slightly ahead of Will.

“Miss Lounds, now isn’t the time.” Lecter said diplomatically.

“Look, you and I may have our own reasons for being here, but I also think we both genuinely care what happens to Abigail Hobbs.” Freddie said.

“You told her I was insane.” Will countered in a deadpan.

“I can un-do that.”

“You help Abigail see me as more than her father’s killer and I help you with online ad sales?”

“I can un-do what I said. I can also make it a lot worse.” she said.

“Miss Lounds, it’s not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living.” Will said. He heard Lecter sigh quietly beside him. Will had been far too tired to care about the consequences of his words before he had said them. His blood pounded in his ears as a surge of pain nearly made him wince. That seemed to be a problem for the future him, he thought as he slipped on his five-dollar sunglasses to stave off the bright sunlight. Will watched her fake smile slip from her face before she and Gabriel walked stiffly away. 

\----

Freddie, it seemed, wasted no time. The day after he and Lecter had visited Abigail Will sat in his lecture hall surrounded by his students talking in hushed tones and sneaking knowing glances at him. One student, an overconfident frat-looking boy, had the audacity to come up to his podium to congratulate him. He had stood there quietly and flinched as the man clapped a hand on his shoulder. He had already taken what seemed to be his daily aspirin but a headache had started to form. Will ran through his lecture with his head pounding and a vague sense of dread.

Will’s headache came to a head when Jack Crawford burst into the hall as Will was clearing up. A vein was pulsing in his forehead and Will inwardly groaned. It seemed like the consequences for future Will were finally here. He hoped he had time to get more coffee but by the look of his daemon, feathers puffed and wings twitching, that was not a viable option.

“My office, now.” Jack said before stiffly turning on his heel and leaving. His eagle, Alma swooped after him with a shrill cry at Will. Will didn’t see how Jack could get any angrier so he stopped by the breakroom to refill his travel cup with the strongest brew he could with the meager office supply. He popped a few more aspirin in his mouth then washed them down with the disgusting coffee he’d procured and slipped on his glasses before opening the door to Jack’s office. In the room sat an apologetic looking Alana and her daemon, an unruffled Lecter and his daemon, and a seething Jack and his daemon. Will took the seat that wasn’t occupied, between Alana and Lecter, then took another gulp of his coffee. Jack didn’t even notice the steaming coffee as he stared Will down.

“Freddie Lounds, we all remember her?” Jack asked generally but his eyes never left Will’s face. Will stayed very still.

“We,” he gestured around the room, “all remember how I _explicitly_ told you not to talk to her, not to look at her, not to so much as _breathe_ in her direction. To not give her ammunition?” the man said nearly calmy but let slip his anger on a few words. “Now tell me, Will,” he paused to look at his computer. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT ‘ _DO NOT TALK TO FREDDIE LOUNDS’_ MEANS?” Jack bellowed, Will flinched and Alma flapped her wings. Erasmus pawed at the ground behind Will.

“Honestly, Jack it was only for a minute at most. How much damage could she have done?” Will said before he could think better of it.

“‘It’s not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living.’” Jack said. His own words did sound much worse coming out of Jack’s mouth. Will was going to reply but Jack’s glare cemented his mouth shut. Jack finally turned from him to Doctor Lecter.

“You were there with him and you let those words come out of his mouth.” he said. He felt bad for Lecter but at the same time, he was relieved that Jack’s ire was no longer entirely on him.

“I trust Will to speak for himself.” Lecter said. Will almost smiled at that.

“Evidently, you shouldn’t.” Jack said. Alana swiftly changed the subject and Will’s slip of the tongue was quickly put aside. They discussed the plan for Abigail’s return home, Alana objected, Lecter approved, and in the end, Jack preferred Hannibal’s answer. Will was just about to get up with his drained travel mug in hand before Jack spoke up.

“Doctor Bloom you can leave, I need to talk to these two.” he said. Will cautiously sunk back into his chair and glanced at both Alana and Lecter. Alana seemed concerned and shot him a reassuring look. Lecter seemed just as unruffled as he had at the beginning of the meeting, he seemed to know quite well what Jack would say next.

“I want your psych eval Will.” he said after Alana had closed the door.

“I’m fine, Jack.”

“I want a second opinion. One that’s, preferably, unbiased.” Jack glanced at the door.

“I don’t want someone traipsing through my head.”

“ _I_ don’t really care what you want.” he turned from Will signaling that the conversation was over. “Nor do I particularly care who does it, as long as it gets done.”

“Jack, it would be unethical to force…” Hannibal started.

“Need I remind you, Doctor Lecter, that you are here as a formality and that your presence on these cases is entirely because I allow it.” he said. “If you won’t do it then I’ll find someone else who will.” Jack said with a tone that said he was very serious. Will watched Jurate’s tail flick once before going still once more. Will had a feeling neither man would give any ground. So he would make it easy for both of them.

“It’s fine, Hannibal. I’ll do it, Jack.” Will said.

“Good, I want it on my desk by Monday.” Jack said. He looked back to his computer for a minute. “You can both leave. And Will?”

“Yeah, Jack?” Will said tiredly as he got up to leave Lecter rising with him, silent.

“Take care of yourself.” He said behind eyes even more tired than Will’s. Will nodded silently.

Will, Lecter, and their respective daemons left the office. Both the men were leaving the building in the same direction in relative silence until they reached the exit. Hannibal held open the door while the small group shuffled out.

“Thank you for agreeing to the psychological evaluation, Will. I doubt Jack would have let me stay if I’d held my ground.” Lecter said. A kind smile was spread across his face.

“I’m not sure it was much of a choice for either of us.” Will said.

“Nevertheless, I’m glad you saw fit to keep me as your colleague.”

“It would have been harder to get used to someone new.”

“Would it? So we’re getting friendly?.” Lecter asked as Erasmus cleared the door and he let it fall shut with a hushed sigh.

“Something like that.” Will said with an almost smile.

\----

The day after Will had gotten chewed out by Jack he had scheduled the meeting with Doctor Lecter for his psychological evaluation. At eight o’clock he would go to Lecter’s office an hour away just to be personally picked apart by someone he considered an almost friend. At least he didn’t have to teach that day since it was a Saturday, his one day off from any real issues.

His day off seemed blessedly calm. He woke up later than usual, refreshed and feeling almost normal. He got up from his bed and expected the other shoe to drop, for some nightmare to startle him awake, but none came. He treated himself to a hearty meal of bacon, egg, and box-mix pancakes. He felt so good he even cut up some strawberries to put on top of the pancakes. Will let the dogs out and decided to walk with them around the property after pulling on his pants, jacket, and shoes.

The weather was relatively good for fall in Virginia. The temperature was good which was why Will was walking to the river with Winston and Erasmus. He had Erasmus carry a tackle box and cooler while he took the rods. He’d realized a long time ago that a weight that was unwieldy for him was fine for Erasmus and that Erasmus enjoyed being helpful. Will had bought a horse saddlebag and fitted it to carry larger loads. It resembled a cross between a horse’s saddlebag and a mule’s pack saddle.

Will felt the weight of Erasmus’s cargo as a light pressure against his back. It was almost pleasant as he made his way across his property under the midday sun. He had put on his insulated fishing coveralls and heavy sweater over his regular clothes as well as a heavier jacket. It made the trek comfortably warm.

They reached the river after half an hour and Will unstrapped the cooler from Erasmus once they arrived. He readied his fly on his rod then waded into the knee-deep water. Will sank into the calm routine of fishing while Winston and Erasmus waited for him patiently onshore. He spent a little over two hours in the water catching fish, throwing them in the cooler if he thought they were big enough. He waded out of the water for the final time with a relatively large trout still wriggling in his grasp and Erasmus laid contentedly in the sun while Will deposited the fish in the cooler. Winston eyed the fish as he did, sitting next to Will’s stag with a wagging tail.

Erasmus stood for Will to restrap the cooler to his back. Once Will had situated it comfortably Erasmus, Winston, and Will walked back to the house. It was a little more time-intensive on the trip back because Will was looser than when he had walked down, his time in the river relaxing him. When they reached the house Will let the dogs out to play while he cleaned and gutted the fish.

He set one of the fish aside for lunch then put the rest in the freezer. He baked the trout with some garlic powder, butter, and salt. While it cooked he worked on his flies. Twenty minutes later he was eating his fish with some lemon he’d found shoved in the back of his fridge that was surprisingly edible. He spent the rest of the day reading with the dogs until his appointment with Hannibal.


	2. Circle One - Limbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graham Cracker and co. get into some hot water. Will considers the forearm at work, hot or not? In more serious matters this chapter will develop Abigail's arc as well as Will's instability, 'cause I'm brought low by a broken Graham.

Will had set up his appointment at 7:30, which gave him an hour to get ready and another hour to drive to Doctor Lecter’s office. He left Erasmus with the dogs while he showered, all too aware that he smelled vaguely of fish. Usually, he wouldn’t care but somehow Lecter got under his skin. He even put on the only cologne he had as well as one of his best shirts. One without holes or stains, which apparently were in short supply in his closet. 

Once Will smelled more like Old Spice rather than fish entrails he let the dogs out one last time then set out on the hour drive to Lecter’s with Erasmus. As he drove snow started to fall, shining in the low streetlights like shattered glass. It was eerie and beautiful, driving through the snow at night, not something he usually did. Breaks in his patterns were untrustworthy and annoying but this drive felt almost comfortable. The calm, assuring presence of Erasmus in the back of his mind as well as the silence of being alone was the nearest thing he’d felt to normalcy since he started working for Jack Crawford. It was almost blissfully quiet in his headspace for once.

He arrived at Doctor Lecter’s office at quarter past, fifteen minutes until his appointment. He let Erasmus out of his trailer and took a moment to watch the snowfall on his pelt. How his chest moved and made the snow dance like tiny stars on the iridescent black feathers. Will put a cold hand through Erasmus’ mane, admired their silky feel before the feeling reflected through him, then dropped the hand.

As they entered the building Will couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over the waiting room. Displayed art, tasteful wallpaper, and modern furniture that shouldn’t work with the rest of the decor but somehow did. It was all perfectly balanced in gaudiness and tastefulness. It was exactly like Hannibal himself. Which was probably the point considering it was his waiting room. 

At exactly 7:30 the door opened to Lecter’s office, startling Will from his room-based admiration. 

“Good evening, Will. Please come in.” Hannibal said.

He had slipped on his glasses while he had waited which effectively cut off Hannibal’s too-piercing stare. He, instead, focused on the other man’s warm smile as he was beckoned in. The office was exactly like the waiting room in its refined extravagance but felt impossibly more like Lecter. The fully stocked library above him, the polished wood desk in the middle, the merrily crackling fire to the left. It was all beautiful but also functional.

Will shuffled in after Lecter followed by Erasmus, who nearly gauged holes in the door frame. Will doubted Hannibal would forgive that considering the near-perfect condition and placement of the objects in the room. He struck Will as deeply possessive of his space and the things that occupied it.

Will watched as Lecter walked to his desk, pulled a piece of paper from his desk, and slid it across the lacquered wood. He approached with mild curiosity as Lecter smiled conspiratorially. It was thick paper, expensive, and prettily signed.

“What’s this?” Will asked.

“Your Psychological Evaluation. You're totally functional and more or less sane. Well done.” Hannibal said.

“Did you just rubber stamp me?” he said with a crack of a smile.

“Jack Crawford may lay his weary head to rest knowing he didn't break you and our conversation can proceed unobstructed by paperwork.”

“Our conversation? What are we talking about?”

“What would you like to talk about?” Lecter said and Will considered for a moment. 

“When we visited Abigail you talked like we were her fathers. Why?”

“I feel a staggering amount of obligation. I feel responsibility. We saved her life and in the process, orphaned her. I've fantasized about scenarios where my actions may have allowed a different fate for Abigail Hobbs. Do you wish things had happened differently Will?”

“Of course, yes.”

“Is it because you wished you hadn’t killed Hobbs or that you wish you hadn’t saved Abigail?” he said and Will slid into a chair with a sigh. Hannibal sat gracefully in the chair across.

“Killing Hobbs was just, right, and I don’t regret saving Abigail. If anything I regret not being able to save her mother.”

“So you wouldn’t have to be responsible for her?”

“So that she wouldn’t have to live with me being responsible for her.”

“Stealing into other minds has taught you how to fortify your own against any threat you perceive, including intimacy. Are you afraid of not being able to care for her?”

“I’m afraid of not being able to protect her.”

“From her father?”

“From anyone. Jack Crawford believes she helped her father kill those girls.”

“How does that make you feel?” Lecter said and Will scoffed.

“How does that make  **you** feel?’

“I find it vulgar.”

“Me too.”

"And entirely Possible.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“That’s not what Jack believes.”

“Is this therapy or a support group?”

“It's whatever you need it to be. Will, the mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself and not the worst of someone else. “ Hannibal said and Will let it sink in as he glanced at Erasmus. He laid near the fireplace. He was unusually comfortable in this new place. Will looked for Jurate. She sat quietly on the second level, staring benevolently down with her tail gently swaying against the railing.

“Your daemon's name was Jurate, right? That isn’t a common name is it?”

“Not in this country, no.” he said with a chuckle. He turned to look at Jurate. “Though, I’m not sure Erasmus is a common name either.”

“My family was catholic.”

“And you’re not?” Lecter asked. Will laughed.

“God and I don’t exactly get along.”

\----

Will left Hannibal’s office sometime after nine. He wasn’t really sure what time it was but he knew it was well after his appointed hour had ended. Lecter had somehow talked him into coming back the following week as well. How that had happened Will wasn’t sure, something about the way he said Will was coming back with utmost surety. Will himself had agreed as if that had been his plan after all and, only now, thirty minutes into his drive, he wondered why he’d agreed.

He picked up some food on the way home, ate, then went to bed. 

\----

He stood in the field outside his house, snow crunching and stinging his bare feet. The wind howled across the flat expanse of land and hammered his rapidly numbing body. Stars twirled above him in the sky. To his right the forest around his land loomed heavier and darker than normal, wind whistling ominously through the branches. Something lurked there, just out of his line of vision, hovering in his peripherals.

Erasmus wasn’t there which sent a pang of panic through as he spun to look for him. Strangely, he didn’t feel the pain of being separated. Spinning was a mistake, it seemed. He came to face the woods which he was unable to turn from and felt drawn to, like a tether on his chest. He walked to the boundary of the wood. The stars and snow and light fell away until all that was left was shadows. In the dark, a figure crawled towards him and reached with bloodstained hands.

“See?” it said in a coughing sputter. Garrett Jacob Hobbs closed his stained hands about his neck and brought his face close. His glassy eyes had the look of something not completely solid. “ **_See?_ ** ” 

\----

Will woke up in his bed tangled in the sheets and soaked in sweat. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his lungs worked in great heaves. He sat up in his bed and realized his feet, as well as the foot of the bed, was streaked with dirt. Not enough to be a huge mess, it was just enough to catch his tired eye. He must have tracked dirt in when he had let the dogs out last. Will checked the clock. It was nearly time to get up anyhow. Will rubbed at his tired eyes then got up to get ready for work and didn’t give his dirty feet any more thought. 

\----

Will arrived at work and immediately brewed a cup of coffee to refill his travel mug that he’d drained on the way there. He also popped a few aspirin for good measure. Thankfully his class went relatively smoothly before he had to go to Jack’s office with Hannibal’s psych eval clutched in one hand and his coffee in the other. He edged Jack’s door open with the carefulness of a man diffusing a bomb. It was a bit of a lost cause since Jack’s door was glass.

Jack Crawford sat at his desk while his daemon, Alma, preened on her stand behind him. Both of them were large and imposing themselves, together it was like standing at the bottom of a sheer cliff. Impossible to conquer and never yielding. It vaguely made Will want to leave as he entered the room. Jack locked gazes with him before he even had the chance to ponder the thought of escape and Will, instead, approached. He took a swig of coffee before sitting down opposite Jack.

Will slid the paper across the table to Jack, just as Doctor Lecter had when he gave it to him. Jack picked it up and read it over before nodding. The great man looked tired.

“I want you to take Abigail Hobbs back home tomorrow.” Jack said. “Doctor Bloom and Doctor Lecter will go with you.”

“Why do you want me there? There were witnesses to the crime and the killer is dead. There’s nothing to reconstruct so there’s no reason for me to be there?” Will said. He knew Jack didn’t believe Abigail was innocent but that was the only way to question Jack without actually breaching any borders of conduct. Playing dumb grated on Will’s nerves, though.

“We can’t be sure Abigail Hobbs didn’t help her father murder those girls. You’re going to make sure she didn’t.” He paused for emphasis. “Or make sure that she did.”

“Jack-”

“That’s final, Will. If you would? I have to file this.” he gestured to the door then to Will’s eval. Will frowned but obeyed.

\----

Hannibal and Alana could take a plane with Abigail. Will, however, could not. He had to pack, call to ask a neighbor to watch the dogs for a few days, book a hotel room, and call into the academy to explain his absence. All of which had to be done before he went to bed early and woke up ass-end early. Which was one of the reasons he was cursing the airplane industry as well as Jack Crawford in the dead of the Virginian night.

Will stood beside his beat-up pick up and shivered as the cold wind cut through his jacket. The moon still shone over the fresh snow on the ground and the stars glittered tauntingly above him. He had just put up Erasmus in his trailer, a real struggle with his cold and fumbling hands, and was looking back at his house. He said a silent farewell before getting in his truck. He briefly checked over everything he needed. Coffee, aspirin, overnight bag, gun, ammo, sunglasses, glasses, Erasmus; with everything accounted for he sighed and started his seventeen-hour drive.

When Will arrived in his pre-booked room he nearly sobbed in relief. A cheap hotel bed never looked so good. Will forwent the shower he knew he desperately needed and flopped into one of the two beds. A wonderfully dreamless sleep engulfed him.

When Will woke up he felt almost okay. Not great but not terrible either, just okay. Compared to most days since killing Hobbs it was probably the best sleep he’d gotten. That probably wasn’t good. Maybe he’d talk to Hannibal about it in their next heart to heart. Will pushed the thought away with a scoff.

\----

Lecter, Alana, Abigail, and their respective daemons arrived in Minnesota via airplane sometime around noon. Will met them at the airport with coffee enough for all. All accepted graciously, although, Will had a feeling Hannibal was just too polite to decline. He watched as the all-too-posh man sipped his speedway swill with sick humor. He nearly laughed aloud as he saw him discreetly dispose of it after pleasantries were exchanged and they were renting a car.

The time for laughing was soon over as they drove to the Hobbs’ residence. Will was anxious. He was unsure of something, not Abigail’s innocence or Hobbs’ guilt. Those were standing monoliths of fact in the flurry of thought in his mind. Something was bothering him, though, some missing part of the puzzle.

Will felt Erasmus mentally nudge him as they neared the house and a wave of calm washed over his anxious mind. He was glad for it because as soon as he pulled into the driveway his hands had begun to shake. Flashes of his last visit collided with his present and filled his system with adrenaline. A fight or flight response triggered by a man he had killed in his own kitchen might have been laughable if his ghost wasn’t so fucking prevalent in Will’s cranial cavity. He didn’t have time for a breakdown so he slammed back some aspirin and slipped on his glasses.

He glanced up to see giant yellow letters spelling out the word ‘cannibals’ just barely peeking out from behind the tree branches. It was scrawled across the front of the house and Will wondered how he missed them. He got out of the car with a tired sigh. He heard Alana gasp a ways away behind him but Lecter and Abigail were silent.

He was letting Erasmus out of his trailer as Abigail and Alana approached, Hannibal trailed a ways behind them. Erasmus exited the trailer with his iridescent feathers ruffled and shining in the pale fall light. He shook his great horned head in a thrash of glittering obsidian. Abigail’s pale blue eyes tracked his movement with a childish wonder before dulling to their usual apathy.

“I don’t think I’ve properly introduced you yet have I?” Will asked and Erasmus huffed eagerly. The stag straightened regally to stare at her. “This is Erasmus.”

“Hello, Erasmus,” she said quietly. “I don’t think you were this pretty last time we met.”

“It seems the Virginian sun didn’t do him justice.” Hannibal said as he approached. “Nor could any light so dull.”

“No, I guess not.” Will said. He really didn’t have an opinion on the optimal viewing light for his daemon. Nor did Erasmus, it seemed, but if the stag could blush at the attention he certainly would be.

“Right, we have work to do. We should get going.” Alana said. She had always been aware of how uncomfortable Will was with compliments. Especially strange ones regarding the beauty and display of half his soul.

“Of course, my apologies. After you.” Hannibal said with a smile.

The group moved to enter the house, Alana and Abigail leading, Lecter behind them, and Will coming up at the rear. He glanced towards the rigid form of Abigail as she looked pointedly away from the graffiti.

Having such a large daemon made it the most comfortable position for Will to occupy. It also gave him a good view of his companions and their daemons. Hannibal and Jurate; style and grace easily flaunted as if it was as natural as breathing, nearly predatory if you looked at the right time. Alana and Dorian; hard to gauge at times but mostly kind and intelligent. Abigail and her unknown daemon; it was a bird last time he saw, obviously shy or secretive but that wasn’t unexpected after such a large trauma.

As he focused on Abigail he noticed a flitter of color beneath her hair on the side of her neck. Her daemon, he guessed, barely large enough to be noticeable. He wondered briefly at its name before they came up to the front steps of the house and his thoughts scattered. Abigail’s eyes laid transfixed on the large rust-colored stain that marked where her mother and daemon had died. Tears filled her eyes.

“I was sort of expecting a body outline in chalk or tape.” Abigail said.

“They only do that if you’re still alive and taken to the hospital before they finish the crime scene.” Will said. He barely had time to cringe at his bluntness before Abigail spoke next.

“Goodbye, mom, Hearne.” Abigail said in a cracked voice that betrayed her stoic face and her daemon keened softly. Will had the intense desire to take her and leave but that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Despite his dislike of being touched his first instinct was to give the poor kid a hug. He didn’t, as the man who killed her father he felt he had no right to.

Alana provided her the much needed physical reassurance in the form of a subpar arm squeeze.

They moved from her mother’s death place into the house with a reverence that was generally reserved for churches. Into the house, they went. Abigail and Alana then Will and Hannibal. The former group has a much easier entrance than the latter. Abigail’s and Alana’s daemon’s both perched neatly on their shoulders. Hannibal moved smoothly with Juarate through the door frame but Will had to hold one door while Hannibal held the other for Erasmus to maneuver through. The ceiling was just barely high enough for his antlers. Will sighed in relief. He was unsure if Erasmus would fit.

The first room they passed was the kitchen, where Abigail lingered in the doorway for a moment before she stepped fully into the room. 

“If you ever want to go, you just have to say so and we will go.” Alana said in a kind, soft tone.

“Go where? Back to the hospital?” Abigail said.

“For now.”

She drifted to the fridge silently instead of answering. Her fingers traced the edges of pictures that had been flipped over.

“They flipped all the pictures over.” Abigail said.

“Crime scene cleaners will do that.” Alana said.

Will stopped listening to their conversation as he looked to the floor. On the cheap linoleum were two sizeable red-brown stains where Abigail and her father had bled. In his mind’s eye, he could see the events unfolding again. Abigail locked in her father’s arms before he slit her throat. The jagged cries of her daemon pinned beneath Hobbs’. The feel of his gun as he pulled the trigger again and again until his shaky hands could no longer hold it. Hannibal’s gentle hands moving his fumbling ones out of the way and saving Abigail. Will was snapped from his vivid recreation by a soft nudge from Erasmus.

“Thanks, Erasmus.” he said through their bond. Erasmus responded only with an especially long blink.

When he looked back up he found that the girls had moved on to the next room and doctor Lecter’s eyes were fixed on him. His gaze was steady and curious. He must have noticed Will’s renewed focus because he smiled warmly.

“Apologies, Will, it is fascinating to watch the cogs in your brain twitch and turn.” Hannibal said. Will noticed Jurate’s eyes were trained on him as well, cool blue and vaguely unnerving in their intensity.

“Uh, thanks.” Will said with a frown.

\----

After talking with Abigail a while the group decided to clean the graffiti off the front of the house. A task more easily said than done since the stone that was used to line the house was porous as fuck and took spray paint like a sponge. Lecter brought out soapy water while Abigail, Alana, and Will scrubbed in vain at the wall. Will doubted Lecter would be grabbing a brush to help them scrub since the suit he was in probably cost more than Will’s whole car. He didn’t mind and the image of Hannibal doing anything this mundane registered as ludicrous in his brain.

Will let his mind wander with the repetitive motion of his brush on the rough brick. His eyes wandered too, right to the stain on the steps to the house. He was there again, his heart and breath were all he could hear. Blood pumped through his body like waves of water, methodical and rhythmic.

His breathing was deafening as the door to the house burst open. Onto the front steps, Mrs. Hobbs fell once more, gasping and choking. Blood poured from her neck and then Garrett Jacob Hobbs slammed the door back shut and the image vanished.

He continued to scrub after he turned from the steps. He saw Erasmus snort and throw his head as if to clear it. It had seemed so real to him, it must have been for Erasmus too. All the things Will felt must have bled through their bond. Will had heard about PTSD patients having an episode and it affecting their daemons but none of the cases had had a daemon so large or armed. All of the sharp and shaky fear influenced Erasmus who could have easily hurt anyone there. He banished the thought with a particularly vicious brush and tuned back into the conversation.

An awkward conversation, a creepy asshole kid, a regular asshole kid, and a tromp through the woods after said creepy asshole kid later Will was filing a report on their day. His head ached. He took some more aspirin and hoped he would be able to get through his report.

\----

He did get through his report but went to bed almost immediately after. He hoped to a god he knew didn’t exist that he’d get a good night’s sleep. Of course, his pleas remained unanswered.

\----

The sun shone down from a cloudless sky as he walked through the fields surrounding his home. It was strangely quiet, no birds, no wind, not even the distant barking of dogs. The only sounds were the ones he made; his breathing, his heart beating, his feet on the crunching grass. He must have stood there a lifetime in the eerie silence before he heard something else. Someone else.

He looked behind him to see Erasmus. He stood tall and regal with his antlers shimmering in the sun. He walked to meet Will where he stood still, feathers bristled. Will frowned in confusion, Erasmus was never afraid of him even when he was afraid of himself. Even more confusing was that he couldn’t feel Erasmus’ thoughts. He was alone in his own head.

He wants this strange not-Erasmus to stop, to stay away from him. Will was no longer in control of his own body though, He was trapped in his half-empty head screaming at the imposter to stop. To stop before something happened. To stop before...what? He was terrified and confused. Then not-Erasmus reached him.

He looked at Will with achingly familiar eyes that reflected someone else’s terrified face. Abigail Hobbs was suddenly there, clenched in one arm while the other held a hunting knife to her throat. He struggled to keep her still. Just long enough to say goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Abigail. Please just hold still. Please. I’m going to make it all go away.” He said in a voice not quite his own.

He watched sadness flash across a face that was not his own reflected in the imposter’s eyes before his hand moved of its own accord. He cried out as the sharp burst of arterial spray coated the grass below him. The not-Erasmus watched with him as Abigail fell to the ground at their feet. In those alien eyes, he finally saw himself reflected; bloodsoaked and dangerous.

\----

Will awoke sweaty and panting as per the usual. It seemed that his trip to the Hobbs house had not been anywhere near cathartic for him. He hoped that it would be for Abigail as he got up.

He threw open the shades on the windows to reveal a sunny sky. He stood there a moment, transfixed, how had he slept so long? He looked to the clock on the nightstand. It displayed the time 10:37 in accusatory red numbers. He sighed, there was no time to sit and eat breakfast or ruminate on his dream. Will was needed elsewhere despite the aches and protest his body offered up.

\----

Erasmus walked neatly behind him as they follow local police to Garrett Jacob Hobbs’ cabin. His hooves clicked against stones on the gravel path and it was nearly deafening to Will. He could feel Erasmus’ discomfort being near a hunter’s cabin. Especially one that had housed not only his non-daemon kin but also, more than likely, humans. He felt the intense wrongness that is felt in a place where death made its home and so did Will, by proxy. It made every and any stimulus overwhelming for him.

The officers ahead of him ripped down the police tape over the door in a, to Will, overzealous gesture. He watched the tape flutter to the ground before proceeding into the cabin. He was followed by Alana, Abigail, and Hannibal.

“Erasmus you need to stay out here. This place is an active crime scene.” he said through their bond.

“Of course.” he replied. Will felt Erasmus’ relief flood him. Erasmus stepped away from the doorway, mindful of the officers that watched him starstruck.

Will moved through the room to get a feel for Hobbs, to see how he would have moved in the space, to try to see his design. The whole room was blank though, absent of the feelings of Hobbs. 

“He cleaned everything even the places Eamon barely touched. He said he was afraid of germs but I guess he was just afraid of getting caught.” Abigail said.

“Eamon?” Will said.

“His daemon.” she said and it was Will’s turn to nod.

“No one else ever came up here with your dad? Except you?” He said. She nodded in affirmation. “Ever help him make plumbing putty?”

“He made everything by himself. Plumbing putty, glue, butter. He sold the pelts on eBay or in town. He made pillows. Carved knives out of leg bones. No parts went to waste. Otherwise, it was murder.” she paused a moment before her eyes widened and her jaw worked. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Was feeding them to us, wasn’t he?”

Will didn’t answer nor did anyone else. They had considered this possibility in the briefing on the case. More precisely, Will had but he had shared the unsavory thought with the group since it was the most likely reason there was so very little evidence. He grimaced anyhow. While the reasoning was not new to him it hurt him to realize the pain it caused her, the disgust she must have felt with herself when she came to it.

“It’s very likely.” Doctor Lecter said. Bless the man for breaking the silence but curse him for confirming her worst nightmare.

Abigail closed her mouth into a tight frown. Her daemon flashed its wings beneath her hair. She hardly seemed to notice as she moved around the table in the middle of the room, for gutting if Will had to guess. He shuddered to think about the girls that had been cut open on that very table Abigail skimmed her fingers over.

“Before he cut my throat, he told me he killed those girls so he wouldn’t have to kill me.” she said sadly. Her self-blame was apparent to him. He moved to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault but faltered. What use was the man who killed her father’s reassurance?

“You’re not responsible for anything your father did, Abigail.” Alana said.

“If he would have just killed me, none of those girls would be dead.” Abigail said. Will could practically feel her self-hate and he felt a need to speak. Fuck it, he thought, even if he had no right she needed to hear it.

“He would have killed those girls regardless.” Will said. “Your death wouldn’t have changed your father’s nature. None of this is your...” He trailed off as a droplet of liquid splashed across Abigail’s forehead. Another fell, she wiped it away and realized, as did everyone else, what it was. She glanced up, as did Will. On the rafters above her pooled blood. Another droplet splashed her head.

Will pulled out his phone as Hannibal and Alana shuffled the shocked Abigail from the spot. All of them were careful to void the dripping place. He dialed the number he needed, it rang through a moment before the line connected.

“This is Will Graham. I need ERT at the Hobbs Cabin.” he said.

He hung up once the person on the other end acknowledged then moved up to the second level. Climbing the stairs set a dull ache in his chest because of his distance from Erasmus but it was nothing like the one that started in his head when he saw the upstairs room. He inhaled sharply.

The upstairs was filled to the brim with mounted antlers. Row upon row of them and at the end of the room was a naked woman. She was mounted on the antlers and by the look of the wounds while she was still alive.

Will resisted the urge to gag as he approached. A shaky hand extended to touch her forehead. Behind him, he could hear steps on the stairs but he couldn’t turn away before he knew. He lifted her head from its position on her chest. There, upon the antlers, was Marissa Schurr. He could hear Abigail’s choked scream from behind him as he gazed into the abyss in Marissa’s eyes. For a reason he couldn’t explain, he felt guilty.

\----

Will could feel Erasmus’ rekindled discomfort and anxiety as ERT arrived. That, along with his own discomfort about all the unchecked stimulus now pummeling his sensory cortex, felt on the edge of a meltdown. He had stayed in the antler room for that reason instead of going with Abigail and Alana. That and he was terrible at finding the right words to say.

He stood in front of Marissa Schurr and identified the evidence her killer left to assemble it into a person. It was like stringing particles of dust together until it was the vague outline of someone. Needless to say, it was a pain in his ass.

He was examining her swollen lip, it wasn’t a post mortem injury since swelling required a certain amount of pressure. Which meant it was a defensive wound and defensive wounds near the mouth carried the possibility of DNA evidence on the teeth. It also meant the killer was sloppy. Sloppiness conveyed a sense of newness or a sense of desperation. Will suddenly wanted something to concentrate on other than the dead girl’s killer. He started a conversation with Hannibal instead if only to use the other man’s voice as an anchor to keep from sinking into Marissa’s death before he had to.

\----

Will took Jack’s frustration with grace despite being annoyed as hell and two steps from keeling over. He wished as he stood in a room that seemed like a divine mockery that he had some coffee. It seemed poor taste to voice this want with a dead girl hanging on antlers behind him so he weathered his caffeine craving as they discussed Abigail.

He stood resolutely as Jack grilled him. He was wrong, Abigail Hobbs was not to be trusted, Nicholas Boyle was now a suspect. It all coalesced into Jack announcing that she needed to leave Minnesota. Will barely spoke unless he was asked. That was, until, he turned to leave with Hannibal to help with Abigail’s leaving and Jack stopped him.

“Not you, Will. You stay right here.” Jack said. Hannibal glanced back to both of them before he continued down. Will mouthed the words ‘wait for me’ before he left. Will turned to Jack with the enthusiasm of a man facing heading to the chopping block.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“You’re getting too close to this and it’s clouding your judgment. You’re making excuses for a girl you’ve spent, what, ten collective hours with? Why?” Jack asked. His tone and stance demanded honesty.

“I know she didn’t do it. She didn’t help her dad either. She couldn’t have.” Will said.

“I asked why you care so much about the Hobbs girl, Will. Not your speculations on her innocence.”

“I don’t know, Jack, I feel responsible for her. I killed her dad, I held her dying in my hands, I feel paternal. I don’t know why.”

“You were in a high-stress situation, it’s called trauma bonding. Everything you feel about that girl is just a connection you made because of it. Frankly, I think you’ve let it blind you.”

“It’s not like that Jack. I can see just fine. It’s not her. I was wrong about the copycat but not her.”

“You were sure about the copycat. You’re sure about her. Do you see my dilemma?” he said, then deflated from his righteous anger and with a sigh, “Abigail Hobbs is a possible accomplice and I need you to see her as such, not a kid, and definitely not some kind of pseudo-daughter.”

“I can’t see her as anything but that scared kid bleeding out on the floor, Jack. But I can promise you that I’m the best person to find the actual killer. I won’t be wrong again.”

“You better not be. Give me everything you have on the killer.” he paused with a frown. “Tell the forensics team to come in on your way out.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Will said and turned to leave. He was halfway down the stairs before he heard Jack bellow.

“Don’t make me regret this, Will.”

Will didn’t reply as he reached ground level and the ache in his chest finally lessened. He slipped his gas station shades on and finally left the godforsaken cabin. 

Erasmus stood neatly where Will left him with the officers around him giving him a wide berth. It was nearly amusing seeing his all-black stag surrounded by police tape and mulling officers but he instead found it annoying. All of them glanced at him at least once and then Erasmus. It was unbearable for all of them to be so near and staring so Will hurried a path through them with Erasmus in tow.

“What happened, Will? You never take that long.” Erasmus said. “Another murder? Here?”

Will simply nodded and made his way to the cars. Hannibal stood there beside his expensive-looking rental talking to Alana, Abigail was in the car sitting. He watched as Alana noticed him first then pointed to him. The action implied he was the topic of conversation. He waved as he approached. Alana smiled weakly in greeting before leaving Hannibal to get in the car with Abigail.

“We were just about to leave without you.” Hannibal said with a small smile. Nice to know he had some levity left in him after seeing a girl impaled on a stag head.

“Jack and I came to an agreement. Thanks for waiting.” 

“You did ask me to wait. It would have been rude to leave you to the wolves.” Hannibal said. Will cleared his throat to reply.

“Right, it’s nearly an hour’s drive, we should get to the Hobbs house.” Will said.

“Of course. You’ll follow us I assume?” Hannibal said.

“Yeah. See you there.”

Hannibal got into his car as Will went to put Erasmus into his trailer.

“He is an interesting Onion Man.” Erasmus said.

“He’s uptight and pretentious.” he replied. He fixed the latch with fumbling, cold hands.

“But you enjoy his presence?”

“Yeah, well. I guess I needed someone like a friend.”

“A friend. It’s been a long time since you’ve considered one.” Erasmus said. Will sighed and went around to get in the driver’s seat.

“I’m not sure if ‘friend’ is the right word, yet. More like an acquaintance.”

“Do you want more? To be friends?”

“He’s not interesting enough to be a friend yet. And Erasmus? Stop calling him The Onion Man.”

“What should I call him then?”

“His name, preferably.”

“Alright.”

Will started the car and pulled out of the driveway. He contemplated what Erasmus had said while he followed the object of conversation. Will had always stayed away from human bonding on any level but skin-deep. Friendship was, at best, a business transaction for him. One that he always felt to be lacking in its return.

\-----

It was dark by the time they pulled up to the Hobbs’ house. The night chill had set in and while it was nowhere near as bad as in Virginia, it still made him want to slide back into his heated car. He had let Erasmus out of his trailer and did a little half jog to catch up with the others as well as to warm up. He shoved his hands in his pockets and cursed. The media had gotten wind of Abigail’s homecoming. They flocked like vultures to Hannibal’s rental in the hopes of getting an interview. Will felt relief he had followed them instead of being in front.

He and Erasmus caught up to his, now flanked, compatriots with a lot of elbowing. That and the fact that having such a large daemon was basically a crowd battering ram. No one would willingly touch another person’s daemon so Will used it to his advantage.

Hannibal looked serene as always but he was doing his best to keep the reporters away from Abigail. Alana was the same but looked more like a vengeful goddess in stilettos who was not afraid to push. Abigail just looked like she wanted to go home. Will took them all in before joining them, he took the back position, and together the three of them kept her from the reporters. Once they pushed to the police line the reporters backed off. He smiled weakly as Alana and Hannibal looked back at him.

They were nearing the house when a woman burst through the police line. She was an average height, brown hair, and terribly distraught. Marissa Schurr’s mother, if Will remembered correctly. A police officer tried to hold her back but they seemed to be no match for the determined woman. Will moved to intercept her before she got to Abigail but Hannibal gently pulled him back and stepped forward. He caught the sobbing woman’s shoulders softly but firm enough so she couldn’t continue.

“Why come back? Why did you come back here? Why did you come back?” she screamed hoarsely. 

She struggled to stand as she cried. A particularly violent sob wracked her small frame as the policeman from before came back to drag her behind the lines. Alana glance at Will before she moved to help. Her kind face only barely soothed the mother as she eased the woman from Hannibal’s grip. Abigail had looked stricken as she watched Marissa’s mother struggle. She had tried to go to her before Will had caught her with a subtle shake of his head and a grip on her elbow.

He tried to get her to the house but yet another person stopped him in his progress. Freddie fucking Lounds strode towards them with the confidence of a person twice her size but just as mean. Her twitchy little daemon, Gabriel, looked almost as pompous as she did.

“Abigail.” Freddie said. She smiled slickly in a crude replication of a greeting.

“Freddie, you’re on the wrong side of the police line.” he said with obvious distaste.

“The others are coming, leave her to them.” Erasmus said to him. He had said not to engage with her but he could feel Erasmus’ hostility as well as hear him move closer to him and Abigail.

“This is my tale to tell. I’ve been covering the Minnesota Shrike long before you got involved.” Freddie said.

Will moved past her with Abigail in tow. He kept Erasmus between Freddie and him with Abigail behind him. He kept a protective arm around her as Hannibal finally caught up with a policeman in tow. The policeman grabbed Freddie to usher her from the premises and behind the lines.

“I want to help you tell your story. You need me now more than ever.” Freddie yelled as she was dragged away. Will took a certain amount of joy watching her be kicked out of the scene. He only wished it had been literally.

“I want to talk to her.” Abigail said.

“No, you don’t. Trust me.” Will said as he gently prodded her on. “Come on.”

Hannibal joined them as they mounted the steps.

“I have to ask Miss Lounds a few questions,” Hannibal said. “I’ll be right back”

The man walked off after the policeman and Freddie. Will shrugged and continued into the house. Will could feel the place suffocating him as soon as he entered the foyer. He stopped there and Abigail shot a questioning glance back. He waved her on shakily. He turned to Erasmus.

“Can you stay outside?” Will asked

“Won’t that be painful? Why?” Erasmus said with a quirked head.

“Yeah, I just want as little of me in here as possible and I have a feeling police lines won’t stop Freddie from trying to get at Abigail again.”

“You want a lookout.”

“Please?” Will asked. Erasmus’s only answer was a light huff and a slow blink. Will took that as a yes before he closed the door on his daemon.

He heard a bang from the deeper in the house and went to investigate. It was probably just a box Abigail knocked over but he instinctively thumbed off the clasp on the holster at his hip. He had his hand on his gun as he came into the living room. He came into the room to find Abigail pinned to the wall by the asshole kid from the woods earlier, Nick Boyle. Her daemon flitted through the air about her hair. He hastily drew his gun and aimed.

“FBI! Back away from her!” he said in a near shout. He tried to stop his shakiness from reaching his voice.

The man did back away but not because Will had shouted. Will watched in dawning horror as Nick Boyle fell to his knees and sunk to the ground. Abigail stood over him shocked and horrified with a hunting knife clasped in her blood-covered hands. Will staggered forward like he’d been caught in the inescapable gravity of the moment, he shakily holstered his gun before he rushed to the man on the floor. He pressed his hands to the wound but the blood spurted through his adrenaline-numb fingers. A ferret daemon screeched from his pocket. He watched with dawning horror as the man once known as Nick Boyle lost the light in his eyes; He watched as the hands clinging desperately to his arms dropped limp at his side; He watched the man’s daemon writhe in pain, still, then disintegrate into a flurry of golden sparks.

He took a moment to breathe raggedly on the floor, to come to terms with the moment before he thought to check on Abigail. Will looked to her, she was still standing there hyperventilating with outstretched hands bloodied. She had dropped the knife, he hadn’t heard it but there it sat at her feet beside Nicholas Boyle’s cooling corpse.

“A-are you hurt?” he said weakly. She just looked at him with terror-filled eyes. He could see that the events in the kitchen were playing in her head just like they were in his.

“Will?” Erasmus said. Will realized that everything had happened in a matter of seconds rather than the eons it felt like. That, and that Erasmus had felt all of it without any context, locked where he couldn’t help.

“Hannibal is here. I am coming.” Erasmus said. His voice in Will’s head barely ever carried any tone but now it was frantic. Will could barely think as the events of what had just happened and what had happened with Garrett Jacob Hobbs crashed together. His vision blurred and just in the doorway stood Garrett Jacob Hobbs. He mouthed words that WIll couldn’t hear before he was impaled on a great black stag head.

“Will!” Erasmus said. WIll was abruptly jarred from the vivid hallucination.

Erasmus stood there breathing hard and shaking. Will longed to put his hands in his inky feathers, to pretend nothing was wrong but he was very aware of the blood that covered his hands. He turned his gaze to the man that stood next to Abigail to banish the impulse. It took him nearly a minute to realize who it was between the blurred afterimages of Garrett Jacob Hobbs.

Hannibal Lecter was talking to Abigail in a low voice and Will could barely catch the words as his blood pounded in his ears. The man turned to him with an unreadable expression.

“Will, are you alright?” Hannibal asked. As if there wasn’t a fresh corpse in front of him, cool as a fucking cucumber.

Will just looked at him. The man crouched in front of Will. Hannibal gently looked over his hands and face, avoiding the blood, until he was satisfied that the blood was not Will’s. He stood. Will glimpsed Erasmus shuffling from hoof to hoof from behind Hannibal.

“He was going to kill me.” Abigail said, barely above a whisper. Hannibal turned to her. Will sat numbly.

“Was he? This isn’t self-defense, Abigail. You butchered him.” Hannibal said. Will finally noticed that Jurate was nowhere to be seen. He registered the words.

“N-no, that’s wrong. I was here, he had her pinned. He was going to hurt her.” Will said. His hands were still shaking and so were his words.

“They’ll see this and say that she was an accessory to her father’s crimes, Will. ” Hannibal said.

“I wasn’t.” she said. Her face was blank but her eyes were terrified. Will staggered to his feet before the blood that was pooling could reach him.

“What are you saying, Hannibal? That we should cover this up?” Will said. The numbness he had felt turned to outrage.

“Her guilt was decided the moment she picked up the knife. They’ll never believe her.” he paused to look at Will. “We need to protect her.”

“I- we can’t.” Will said.

“Alana was called away. She’ll be back at some point. If you don’t decide then Abigail will be as good as dead and we’ll be accomplices. We have a choice. She can tell them she was defending herself when she gutted this man... or we can hide the body.” Hannibal took a step towards him as he pleaded. His hand fell on Will’s shoulder. Will looked at Abigail. He couldn’t leave her. She would get the death penalty for all the crimes her father committed as well as this accident. Hannibal squeezed lightly. Will looked into his eyes for the first time since they had met. They were red in the light.

“Will, she needs us.” Erasmus said. “Whatever she needs, we promised after you saved her.” His silence was unbearable but his words were moreso. It went against everything he held to be true but she was the closest thing he’d ever have to a child.

“What do you need me to do?” Will said. He felt sick. He felt afraid. He felt alive.

\----

Will was three feet deep in a hole in podunk nowhere beside Lecter digging. Dragging the body had been little work between the two men but digging? Digging a grave was shit work. He was surprised Hannibal had been the one to help him dig. He’d expected to do it alone after he helped him drag Nicholas Boyle through the woods. Then again, he didn’t expect to have Hannibal bury a body at all least of all with him.

The ground was nearly frozen in the autumn night. They didn’t have to worry about being discovered at least. No one in their right mind would be out this far into the woods in the dead of night. He thought so but Lecter insisted that Jurate kept watch. So she did, high in a tree she had climbed and looked down on them with passive eyes. Will watched her as well since both he and Erasmus were anxious. Erasmus was inherently a prey animal, Will was inherently anxious about illegal things. Erasmus at least got to pace a few feet away from Will instead of being in a hole.

They had left Abigail in the house to clean up herself as well as the blood, only enough so that the story Lecter had spun would stick. The rest he told her to leave as evidence, droplets rather than puddles. Will had to admit the man was sharp as a razor as he shoveled out a particularly heavy clump of dirt and rock. He grunted and rammed his shovel back into the dirt.

“This should be enough, don’t you think?” Hannibal said. Will took a moment to admire the thick bands of muscle lining his forearm where he’d rolled up his sleeves.

“You think?” Will said breathlessly. It was only four or five feet deep. He’d expected them to dig more. Will threw his shovel out the climbed out of the hole, he brushed his hands together to dislodge the dirt. He offered a hand to Hannibal who took it graciously and climbed out of the hole in a single fluid motion.

“Yes. We should be getting back.” he said. He gestured to Boyle. “If you would?”

“Right.” he took Boyle’s feet while Hannibal took his shoulders. “1, 2, 3.” he said and they hefted the body into the hole. It landed with a muffled thump.

Will took an icy breath before he started to shovel the dirt back into place. It was cold, he was unsure of his current mental state, and his adoptive daughter was basically at her home where she was almost killed twice. His head hurt too, just to put the icing on the cake. Maybe instead of bellyaching, he should think about why the hell Hannibal Lecter, the man he had only ever seen in silk suits, was currently helping him and their adoptive daughter hide a body. He supposed he’d already answered the question though. It was their daughter.

They shoveled the last of the dirt back into the hole, repacked it as best they could, and recovered the grave with enough leaves to make it nearly invisible. No one would find it unless they knew what they were looking for. Suddenly, he was hit with the realization of what he was doing and had done. _He’d_ _hidden a body._ He was supposed to be on the side of the law! He was supposed to catch the people who hid bodies! He was supposed- he faltered, what was he supposed to do? Let Abigail go to jail? To burn on the pyre her father had made for her? He couldn’t. Hannibal was right, the law would sooner burn her than accept her innocence.

“Abigail is waiting, lets go.” Will said. He saw Lecter, nearly imperceptively, purse his lips. Will usually curbed his bluntness around Hannibal but he found it hard to care when his hands were literally stained with Nick Boyle’s blood.

\----

They had slunk through the woods and made it back to the house without any problems.

“Now comes the hard part.” Hannibal declared. “This must be believable, Abigail will get the police while Will and I will have been incapacitated by the escaped Nicholas Boyle.” he looked to Abigail. “You cleaned as I told you to?” she nodded. “Good. Will I apologize in advance for this but I’ll have to incapacitate you. Abigail will need to hit me as well.”

“We can’t just fake it?” Abigail asked.

“FBI will be suspicious if there aren’t any defensive wounds.” Will said. “You got bruised from Boyle grabbing you but we are too clean for people who were knocked out.”

“Precisely, Will.”

“Alright, the hallway would be the best place. Carpet’s pretty soft there.”

They went to the hallway and Will felt the fear he’d nursed through the night swell. He stood in the hallway with Hannibal behind him. A quiet part of him screamed to run away, to escape the madness that had engulfed the scene but he’d already sunk too far in. When he felt Hannibal’s warm and calloused hands grip the side of his head he tensed. His head slammed into the wall with a burst of hot white pain and then slumber encompassed him as he slipped into Hannibal’s arms bonelessly.

“Goodnight, dear Will.” Will thought he heard.

\----

When will awoke he was in an ambulance surrounded by too loud people and machines. His head was pounding and as he sat up he noticed a pull at his skin when he moved his brow. A careful prodding revealed it to be a gauze bandage over what he assumed to be a nasty cut. Hanibal could pack a nasty punch, it seemed. He hissed as he pressed a particularly bruised place.

He shucked off a trauma blanket someone had thrown over him while he’d been knocked out. He smelled like antiseptic which only made him want to go home and collapse into his bed. He looked around to find Erasmus groggily coming to on the ground outside the ambulance as well as Hannibal being tended to on the steps of the house, Jurate beside him with her tail flicking. He, unfortunately, also locked gazes with Jack Crawford who was talking to Alana. He didn’t immediately see Abigail as Jack stalked over which sent a flair of panic through him.

“Will, you’re up. Care to explain what the hell happened here?” Jack demanded. His eagle cried and flapped her wings. If he wasn’t sure if Jack was angry before he was now. So he told him, everything he wanted to know and almost all of it lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, ain't that a bitch. What would you do when confronted with your child killing a person? Apparently, you should help them bury the body! I hope y'all enjoyed it! Please comment with any constructive criticism, I welcome suggestions! Happy (belated) New Year!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed it! Please leave comments to tell me how it was. I welcome constructive criticism! Also, the more love this gets the sooner I am likely to update! So, if you want more please tell me.


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